The poetry group I’m part of on Facebook is doing a poem each day through November, and I hope to make it through all of them without missing any. However, that doesn’t mean that your inbox will break like an overladen apple tree branch. I’ll keep it to a twice-weekly wrap-up, as I’m sure that many of the poems will be short.
This month’s theme: “Where I Am: Poems of Place”
Here’s the first one, flying solo just to introduce the series. The prompt was to write a haibun for Form Friday.
She sat on the rocks before the sun made his approach, beneath the spattered white canvas of a master impressionist. Orion hunted Taurus above as the powers of this world began to wake for another day of waging wars of words, of spinning spins, of stoking furnace fears and grasping, grasping, grasping for ashes and straw. The stars peered at their reflection in the lake before her and thought not of such struggles. A goldenrod stood station through the Stygian pre-dawn, tall and slender, brimful of begetting power as wine is full of joy.
sun crowns cedars
revealing golden blooms
the loon
calls
A stunner Mark! Love it. The ku especially.
Lovely poem (and photo). I was particularly caught by "grasping, grasping, grasping for ashes and straw."