her sash, like lilac is an intimation of spring, just this. . .she’s awakened, see her hunger?
my sash like lilac is an intimation of spring, just this . . . I’m awakened, see my hunger?
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Ekphrastic Prompt. This is sort of a poetic exercise in syllabic verse. I wrote the first cinquain, and then I re-wrote it in first person, which I think empowers her. I love the way Sargent captured the light on her gown. You can almost feel the fabric, but it was that sash that first caught my eye, and then her direct gaze.
Terri says: “This is a filtered version of a rose I photographed at the International Rose Test Garden in Portland.”
Colleen and I were discussing Crapsey cinquains, so here is one by me with prose to make it a cinquain haibun. Is that a thing? Neither is a style I write much of. Weird pre-dawn writing. 😂 Perhaps I was also thinking about this forthcoming anthology by Annick Yerem. I have a poem in it about my mom. Annick writes, “the drawing on the cover is by Katherine Inglis-Meyer. She is a former teacher and editor living with dementia. She is also my mum.”
And again fog, a pewter mist, a curtain but threadbare, patched—here see the scarlet leaf, the flash of white tail?
I haven’t participated in Tanka Tuesday for a long time. This is a shadorma. The challenge was to include color–though I think for me the challenge would be NOT to include color. 🙂 The photo is from this morning. I saw three deer with their white tails flashing as they ran.
Just before dawn, the mockingbird sings, an extensive string of melodies. Does he advertise his riches, or is he protecting his nest? I listen, captivated by his song. I take a mental snapshot of this moment to hold it tight within my cache of memories. Marked for now, but memories do not stay fixed on a map. The maple tree in which the mockingbird sits is ravaged by disease, and soon it will be cut, leaving only a stump. The birds will have to move on, flying into the air–soon gone like a thought.
I’m catching up on challenges. This is for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge, using synonyms for hurry and last. I honestly didn’t know anything about Apollo astronaut Alan Bean, who died today. He was one of the fourth man to walk on the moon, but he left NASA to become a painter.You can see examples of his work here.
“Every artist has the earth or their imaginations to inspire their paintings.. .I’ve got the earth and my imagination, and I’m the first to have the moon, too.” The New York Times
I stand at the open window listening to the robins, sparrows, wrens, and cardinals twitter, tweep, cheep, and trill as they tune their instruments, getting them just right to perform the sun salutation. The mockingbird rehearses his aria, long warbled phrases, chirrups, and chirrs. The birds perch high in the tall oaks and maple trees so that their voices echo, breaking the quiet of the early morning. I savor the moment. Soon, black clouds will come, the sky will weep, and the birds will take shelter in those wind-whipped high branches. I will gather then with others; together, we will express our sorrow to a grieving widow and children, and, say good-bye to a friend.
Spring a chimera–
rosy petals bloom, then fall
silver tears of rain
“Seen on KSC grounds, a robin pauses in a Brazilian pepper tree filled with red berries.” NASA, via Wikipedia Commons, Public domain