I was on vacation, then under the weather since the first. So, my first post this month will have [drumroll] FIVE poems!

This year, I have chosen to use the prompts from NaPoWriMo. You can also sign up to participate!

April 1: How to own a pet (or a child)  Inspired by How to Make a Crab Cake by January Gill O’Neil

Start with an open space in your heart,

a small, warm corner of your being

where you can add another life.

Into this pour your hopes and dreams

your gladness and plenty,

embracing lack of solitude and increasing effort.

Every morning, every noon, every night

rise and attend to the needs of another

receiving only affection in return

April 2: Life’s Lingering Lessons Inspired by The Meadow, The River by Claire Wahmanholm

We needed to know everything, / before we were done

We asked questions daily / walking through the garden/ walking to school

We listened intently or watched closer still / waiting for wisdom or insight

For every new task mastered / and every thought acquired / loomed still more

Does education end?

When do we know enough?

April 3: Angled Time Created after reading Pivot Points by Larry Levis

The languid, brightening shadows awaken to calls of birds / and other residents

Trees huddle together, sheltering wildflowers and giving strength to each other / the slow shuffle of the day getting started

again

The arc carved in the globe / tracing the path never more than twice a year / the waning and waxing and waning of seasons

Did you ever wonder about the observers?

Those who tread the same paths, think the same thoughts, but removed – by days, weeks, months… millennia

What did they think as they hunted or farmed or gathered or rested in the heat of the noon-day fires?

Diagonal lines moving from one side to another, growing in the middle, shrinking at the ends, never stopping

Until the last glittering rays punctuate the clouds, inviting the stars to play.

April 4: Sorrow’s Song after reading Son by Craig Morgan Teicher This is actually in sonnet form, with the first rhyming pattern in the middle of each line instead of creating four lines with alternating text.

A small brown animal walked here among the worried orchard trees

Bigger than a rabbit but smaller than a deer – it knelt a moment on its knees

Then getting up it stretched and paused to watch the leaves against the sky

Who knows what it really thought or saw as it pondered the great why

Running now from or to – it passed the moment of safety, of escape

Without thought by now it drew back against the ghastly shape

Of the last lingering breath and faced its death.

April 5: Sleeping Dogs after reading Diaspora: A Narcolepsy Hymn by Kyle Dargan This one is in the form of a villanelle, one I haven’t worked with before. I like the repetition and the rhythm this form sets up.

Before you approach

Know that sleeping dogs do not lie

they are always waiting.

In the morning they want for nothing

but a walk and a treat

before you approach.

Throughout the day

they nap and wake and watch

they are always waiting.

When you return or arrive

No matter how long ago you left, say their name

before you approach.

And be ready to play

before you sleep or rest or recline

they are always waiting.

A pat or a hug or a treat reassures them

That you haven’t forgotten them, just remember

before you approach:

They are always waiting.