Since 2012, novelist and poet Irene Latham has invited other writers to contribute to a progressive poem (kind of like a progressive party in college, without the hangover). I am truly honored to be among such an impressive group. My meager contribution is below:
2016 Progressive Poem
A squall of hawk wings stirs the sky.
A hummingbird holds and then hies.
If I could fly, I’d choose to be
Sailing through a forest of poet-trees.
A cast of crabs engraves the sand
Delighting a child’s outstretched hand.
If I could breathe under the sea,
I’d dive, I’d dip, I’d dance with glee.
A clump of crocuses crave the sun.
Kites soar while joyful dogs run.
I sing to spring, to budding green,
to all of life – seen and unseen.
Wee whispers drift from cloud to ear
and finally reach one divining seer
who looks up from her perch and beams --
West Wind is dreaming May, it seems.
Golden wings open and gleam
as I greet the prancing team.
Gliding aside with lyrical speed,
I’d ride Pegasus to Ganymede.
To a pied pocket, the zephyr returns
blowing soft words the seer discerns
from earthbound voyage to dreamy night,
The time is now. I give you flight!
Yet I fear I am no kite or bird
Amy was ready for our dreamer to soar, but I thought she/he might have some last-minute doubts. I'm sure one of the remaining poets will get us into the sky! What do you say, Renee?
If you'd like to see the list of this year's poets, and all past progressive poems, click the link below, which will take you to Irene Latham's blog. Thanks, Irene!
2016 Progressive Poem
A squall of hawk wings stirs the sky.
A hummingbird holds and then hies.
If I could fly, I’d choose to be
Sailing through a forest of poet-trees.
A cast of crabs engraves the sand
Delighting a child’s outstretched hand.
If I could breathe under the sea,
I’d dive, I’d dip, I’d dance with glee.
A clump of crocuses crave the sun.
Kites soar while joyful dogs run.
I sing to spring, to budding green,
to all of life – seen and unseen.
Wee whispers drift from cloud to ear
and finally reach one divining seer
who looks up from her perch and beams --
West Wind is dreaming May, it seems.
Golden wings open and gleam
as I greet the prancing team.
Gliding aside with lyrical speed,
I’d ride Pegasus to Ganymede.
To a pied pocket, the zephyr returns
blowing soft words the seer discerns
from earthbound voyage to dreamy night,
The time is now. I give you flight!
Yet I fear I am no kite or bird
Amy was ready for our dreamer to soar, but I thought she/he might have some last-minute doubts. I'm sure one of the remaining poets will get us into the sky! What do you say, Renee?
If you'd like to see the list of this year's poets, and all past progressive poems, click the link below, which will take you to Irene Latham's blog. Thanks, Irene!