Wednesday, April 01, 2020



Receding patches of snow with rainbow. Ootischenia, end of March

So here we go. Poetry Month is upon us. The reading I was part of scheduled for the Ides of the month at the Kootenay Gallery has been cancelled. Or postponed. Funding from the LCP or Canada Council (I'm not clear on which) is still going forward so likely we'll do something digital. We just haven't decided what yet, but you can be sure that when we do I'll let you know via all the appropriate channels.

The NaPoWriMo 2020 website is up and running and here's today's prompt:

"...write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life – one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances. For example, bowling, or shopping for socks, or shoveling snow, or teaching a child to tie its shoes."

So this poem came to be over the course of the day while I worked with a friend who was getting FaceBook messages from a fake me. Fake Me is into promoting bitcoin, it seems. But in a nice, fake, round-about way. Good job, Fake Me. Now get a real one!

To begin with, I thought I was heading somewhere else with this, hence the title that doesn't seem to make a lot of sense but then I think of all the poems I've read where the poems didn't appear to make sense and I can't think of another one right now and in half an hour we're having another family Zoom get-together so I have to go prep something for us to eat while that's happening. 

She Was Never Prompt

As last patches of March snow recede
            behind a land awash 
            in dirty leaves and gravel
            and a tiny, deadly speck
            is killing people 

I realize life’s a book 
you make up as you go along
and I'm in the poetry section
but not a couplet or a sonnet
no tight, cohesive little lyric here,
I'm a longer poem in that book
one that always finds a way 
to be challenging for someone—

other poems 

            I’m sorry       I need
            another half-page
            two weren’t enough
            yes, long, but still 
            worth reading 
            no we can’t double up those lines
            oh, you don't read poetry—

invitation to passing glance dance
received and understood

while aficionados 
of the longer poem
may be found in groups
            —remember groups—
            made merry by each other,
await the deep, restoring breaths 
a longer poem invites,
always keen to listen. 



Kristin said...

I like the way you work in the plague without that being the theme.

Linda Crosfield said...

Thanks, Kristin! It's such a major theme for all of us these days I don't want to give it any more airtime than it's already getting!

Linda Crosfield said...

This comment was left by "Unknown" and didn't get published even though I figured out who it was from and it's legit! Have changed my settings so next time such a post can get through, but meanwhile...thank you for reading!

Nice! Dtr Angela and her husband, Mitch, have now given four on-line courses on the use of Zoom. She has 16 in each class. Several more are planned and they have a waiting list. In their business, she has been using Zoom for a long time with often over a hundred participants. Everyone leaves the program elated, enthusiastic and upbeat.