an unlocking prompt from Kimiko Hahn's The Narrow Road to the Interior
Emily, I love this. Kimiko Hahn is one of my favorite poets. I started writing and here is what I came up with:
January 21, Sun Valley, a visit with my brother in law, the sun not yet visible,
a bit of light from snow.
Barbara’s photo popped up on my phone,
she and I holding our first poetry books, she is beautiful,
healthy. In March she will be dead four years (future tense for the past, as if time-travel)
and an article says the earth’s magnetic north pole is shifting from Canada to Siberia
as if I’m not unsteady enough with my grief-memories,
unsure how to articulate. Forrest Gander writes “if upswelling
verb tenses could draw together past and present
into an emotional harmonic”
but harmony is an impossible task these days, eluding
my grasping hands, my desperate heart.
The only constant my ghosts who tiptoe around my thoughts like giggling children,
waiting to catch me unaware.
Valerie, this is gorgeous. Reading these lines about Barbara made me catch my breath. I can't believe she will be dead four years. How is that possible? I love how you weave in the Gander lines, too. Can see a stunning Valerie poem taking shape <3
Emily, I love this. Kimiko Hahn is one of my favorite poets. I started writing and here is what I came up with:
January 21, Sun Valley, a visit with my brother in law, the sun not yet visible,
a bit of light from snow.
Barbara’s photo popped up on my phone,
she and I holding our first poetry books, she is beautiful,
healthy. In March she will be dead four years (future tense for the past, as if time-travel)
and an article says the earth’s magnetic north pole is shifting from Canada to Siberia
as if I’m not unsteady enough with my grief-memories,
unsure how to articulate. Forrest Gander writes “if upswelling
verb tenses could draw together past and present
into an emotional harmonic”
but harmony is an impossible task these days, eluding
my grasping hands, my desperate heart.
The only constant my ghosts who tiptoe around my thoughts like giggling children,
waiting to catch me unaware.
Valerie, this is gorgeous. Reading these lines about Barbara made me catch my breath. I can't believe she will be dead four years. How is that possible? I love how you weave in the Gander lines, too. Can see a stunning Valerie poem taking shape <3