As we say in the South, It’s getting down to the short rows! I’m at the point in the poem-a-day challenge where I don’t remember the poem I wrote yesterday because I’m so focused on finishing today’s poem and resting up before tomorrow’s prompt is posted. When my friends comment on poems I’ve written earlier in the month, I sometimes don’t remember writing it. The challenge keeps me in the moment of writing without the attachment that what I write has got to be good, finished, publishable, inspiring, <insert any other adjective here>. Which I guess, is part of the point.
Day 20 – My <Blank>
My eyes open before the early bird’s song
as if starting this job on the first day. After seven years,
I know the rhythm of this place like a child’s favorite lullaby,
can fall back in line like a soldier on his fourth tour.
Day 21 – What You Are (Not)
Born of the Atlantic
but I am nothing
like my mother.
Day 22 – Nature
The days grow long, my patience grows thin
The work you do to emerge from the ground is hidden
Day 23 – Historic
We call you by your first name as if we grew up
side by side on those red cushioned pews
in your daddy’s church
Day 24 – Moment
In the end, she did nothing
even though this was the time
she’d promised to do different.
Day 25 – Across the Sea
A woman waiting
Her sister dying
Bleeding from eyes
Ears and nose.
Day 26 – Shakespearean Words
a frugal compromise
to end Lonely’s reign