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Mara mentioned villanelles at Spoken Word last weekend. Here's a form I like: the pantoum.

It is a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next. This pattern continues until the final stanza, which differs in the repeating pattern.


AUTUMN SACRIFICE


Holy ghost mist
Walks on water
In morning’s sacred hour.
Autumn hovers above,


Walks on water
In reflections of the sky.
Autumn hovers above,
Mild, then meek, in wind.


In reflections of the sky
Leaves deny death.
Mild, then meek, in wind,
Branches scratch testaments.


Leaves deny death,
But frosty breath withers.
Branches scratch testaments.
Sun draws blood,


But frosty breath withers
Holy ghost mist.
Sun draws blood
In morning’s sacred hour.



“Autumn Sacrifice.” Poetry. 2006 Explorations, MECC, Third Place.

 
 
 
 
 
 
DIRTY SECRET
 
 
On July days, we played noon till night.
Stayed in the woods.
Climbed the hill behind Granny’s house.
Dug up treasures in the briar patch:
Decapitated dolls, deflated basketballs, rusty cans.
 
One day we missed Sam.
Thought he might be caught in the patch –
A bad match for Brer Rabbit –
But the thicket offered only barbed promises.
 
We finally found him behind the barn,
Shorts and shoes abandoned in the grass,
Naked,
Up to his neck in a mud hole.
 
Sweet dirt filled every pore,
Soothed his sore feet,
Cooled his hot skin.
 
Dismayed at his sin displayed,
He leaped from his bath
And ran home, clay caked
In every nook and cranny.
 
Granny never blinked an eye.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Dirty Secret.” Poetry. 2006 Explorations, MECC, Honorable Mention.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



HUSBAND 
 

You were raw white sugar,

Sweeter than sweet.

Dissolved in my heat,

Thick and sticky,

Buttery rich and brown,

Caramel, melting down.

 

Now a watched pot:

Steady and slow,

Simmering steam,

Rising above the rim.

Ready to turn up the heat.

 

  

 

“Husband.”  Poetry.  2005 Explorations, MECC, First Place.

 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

AUTUMN SACRIFICE

 

 

Holy ghost mist

Walks on water

In morning’s sacred hour.

Autumn hovers above,

 

Walks on water

In reflections of the sky.

Autumn hovers above,

Mild, then meek, in wind.

 

In reflections of the sky

Leaves deny death.

Mild, then meek, in wind,

Branches scratch testaments.

 

Leaves deny death,

But frosty breath withers.

Branches scratch testaments.

Sun draws blood,

 

But frosty breath withers

Holy ghost mist.

Sun draws blood

In morning’s sacred hour.

 

“Autumn Sacrifice.”  Poetry.  2006 Explorations, MECC, Third Place.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The family sat on the porch in silence, watching the world fall apart. Lightning raked scars across the air. Hail fell then, in ivory bits that reminded Katie of knucklebones. It seemed that the sky was sloughing off its skin to reveal its skeleton. A wail rose up around them and Jim leaped to his feet, his lips pulled back from his teeth. He pointed, though there was no need. They all saw it.           
 
The funnel emerged from the bank of clouds like the proboscis of some terrible insect. Katie pressed herself against the wall, fearing they would be sucked up the long snout to be devoured by this black dread. Jim grabbed her and pushed her into the kitchen.
 
 
“The Pawpaw Tree.”  Short Story.  2006 Explorations, MECC, Second Place.

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