Hey all. We're two thirds of the way done with poetry month. I'm happy I've made it this far, but also sad to see that there are only ten days left.
I'm thinking of making the award for the best poem posted in the comments a picture that is poem specific. Since only one person has posted their poems so far (Thank you, Gracia! You rock!), it makes more sense to wait and see which one I pick and then tailoring the award to fit it. Stay tuned to see my awesome, photoshopping skills! (Or not.)
If you've been following this blog, and writing a poem a day, but just didn't want to post them in the comments, feel free to at least let me know you've been writing alongside us. Write on, fellow poets!
Day 20 - Write a poem that's looking back, and/or write a poem that's not looking back, like looking forward or even just simply not looking at all. Maybe the speaker is blind or something. Interpret the prompt how you wish.
It's rare, but happens predictably,
When the moon moves in front of the sun.
I point and look up in awe
at the sudden darkness.
'It's special', they say, 'to see it like this,
right in our own backyard.'
I think it's special too, only...
does anyone else, for a split second,
get afraid that the eclipse won't end?
That brief moment of darkness is looked
is looked forward to.
But what if eclipses were forever?
What if the coming event that
seems so huge and promising,
that everyone looks forward to,
that I am hanging my happiness on,
is so big it eclipses my past?
Looking forward to something so much,
I find myself in danger of forgetting my roots.
What if the future is so bright and promising
it eclipses my past forever?
Is there such a thing as
looking forward too much?
I wonder if the moon ever minds the eclipse,
ever minds that while he is feeling
the full heat and promise of the sun,
his back is a little cold.