5th draft: 10.12.16
that
postcard I can’t mail to my dead mother
the darkness of a pencil poised in mid-air
a
bloom of smoke going back down the chimney
like a hush from a stop sign at the crossroads
the screaming smudge of a pencil in mid-air
just
a conversation of fences in a paddock
like a hush from a stop sign at the crossroads
this
crack of moonlight on my window
just
a conversation of fences in a paddock
the
calm of a torch shining where the noise was
the
scream of moonlight at my window
a careful pile of pebbles in the cemetery
the noise of torchlight shining at a memory
a
moan of firewood alert under the pine
a careful pile of pebbles in the cemetery
the
lull inside a raindrop as it leaves its cloud
the
moan of firewood caught under the pine
a
bloom of smoke climbing out of my chimney
the
lull inside a raindrop as it leaves its cloud
that
postcard I can’t mail to my dead mother
Great poem, Myron. Shades of a villanelle. Dylan Thomas would approve.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Nat. It's a pantoum.
DeleteRight! The form was familiar but I couldn't pick it. I've never written a pantoum myself. Maybe I should give it a burl.
DeleteI definitely feel the Villanelle - and each line is so rich and full that it seems to gather power with each repetition. This is very moving to me, Myron, for particular reasons, as well as aesthetically.
ReplyDeleteHi Magdalena. Thank you for your wonderful response to this pantoum. I appreciate it very much.
DeleteI love this, very rich and full!
ReplyDeleteincredibly moving, and it builds forcefully. Very powerful affect.
ReplyDelete