Where Poems Live
Today I dropped a box of poems on the floor. They ran rampant through the house, leaving me no choice but to hunt them down one by one. I chased a renga out from behind the register with a broom, and a small stone out of the tub. Haiku were swinging from the lamps and bouncing across the linoleum. When I finally wrapped the last tanka in a silk handkerchief, I said to myself, “I can start the new year right.” New Year’s light streamed through slats of the blinds, and through the baby bonsai’s translucent leaves, ready to unfurl.
Join the river
Okay, so admittedly up until about an hour ago I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do for December. I want to keep up with posting daily, and… well, it’s fun. I want to try new things, but I don’t have time to really diligently study them. Then I started to work on this… thing. Microfiction, prose poetry, thing. I know I can’t keep this up every day, but I know I want to play. So… this month. Anything goes. Run amok, squeeze as much out of the next 31 days as possible, and then start the new year with small stones (in which I will try more new things).
Speaking of the new year, be sure to send me your poems about dragons and/or fire and/or water by December 28th!