I did write poems yesterday; just didn't post them. We keep losing our Internet connection, so I'll post both of yesterday's poems today and the poem for today later on.
Yesterday's prompt was to write a poem with "Until" in the title. "Until blank."
Here's the first, called Until Three
Until Three
We took the baby in her stroller
To the park where we ate strawberries
and you said you felt strong, felt better,
felt like you didn’t need Doc McNair
anymore.
In that false somnolent summer, I
believed it. Believed that the bitter
days trailed behind us, whispering
like the ashen edge of burning paper,
lifting like lilting smoke to the sky. But
they followed us, those timebomb days,
spreading like phantom fingers while I
made dinner, fed the baby, folded clothes,
and you watched CNN for the headline scroll
to let you know the world is not what you
thought it should be.
And we were family when we turned
out the light. We curled into cocooning
sheets where the baby and I slept,
Until three.
When you woke us and said that
she and I should leave.
And the second:
Until...
Until I'm 16
Until I graduate
After college
After we're married
Until I'm 25 and I can
finally rent a car.
Until the baby's older
Until she starts school
Until we have enough money.
After the divorce
After I'm 30
When I finally have enough
life experience.
Until I'm 35
Until I'm 40
After she graduates
After she's married
Then I'll finally
write the book buried inside me
But until then there's never
enough time.
Until then...
Thanks for reading!
I really like both of these. You're doing some really good work! :-)
ReplyDeleteHey, there's the risk we speak of, the tightwire of personal pain.
ReplyDeleteYour second is fun to read; I love short lined poems because the rhythms fall so quickly. Here it reinforces the sense of breathless business that interferes with the personas objective novel.