As much as I laud those who attack National Novel Writing Month with great zeal, I am a poet not a novelist. So in my own parallel to NaNoWriMo, I’ve decided to once again work my way through each of the poetic forms identified in my old standby resource, Lewis Turco’s Book of Forms: Revised Edition starting with the acrostic and ending with the virelai – hitting all the Irish, Welsh and other forms and meters along the way. I’ve done this in the past – I’ll try to post a poem a day, which may take us through the new year.
- On the Veranda: serenadeAs the evening enters like a dancer from the wings, and we turn our backs on busy days and other things, listen as the dull …
- The Circling: a cyrch a chwtaThe past is now dead and gone, its Doppler echo a song that fades and yet lingers on, palimpsest written upon then erased with each …
- Dreams and LightEach day I wake, my head crammed full of dreams that reach into my conscious life unasked, defining how I perceive each new task by …
- On the Veranda: serenade
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