In 2023, the Poetry Sisters are exploring transformation in all its forms: conversion, alteration, metamorphosis, mutation, growth, evolution, revision, modulation, change...
January's challenge was to try a cascade poem, in which the opening stanza (of any length) transforms into the backbone of the poem by "cascading" through the rest of piece. Specifically, each line of the opening stanza becomes the end line for each of the following stanzas. So, if you have a first stanza of ABC, then the next stanza is xxA, and then xxB, and then xxC.
It's a form that because of the repetition, can emphasize what doesn't change: for example, something we can't let go of---producing perhaps, a rant or a eulogy. It also lends itself to explanations of process, or logical argument, making change as orderly as a five paragraph essay. But, it turns out, I wanted to write about love.
Yes, I know February is the designated month for that stuff, but doesn't January deserve a bit of affection too? And what is love but a transformation of how we see the world?
Nothing has changed since we were young.
You keep a coat for thirty-five years.
I never follow a recipe.
We walk, we talk, we hold hands.
Our first date was 1.1 hours in a Cessna;
you logged it, pinpointed day and time;
I had no idea the world held such steadiness;
nothing has changed since we were young.
I still try on new friends, new shoes, new lives,
wander into deep woods, find the sky again;
you land safely, time after time;
you keep a coat for thirty-five years.
You ask where I’m going---
how would I know? I gather words
until I have to give some away;
I never follow a recipe.
Years flow into years--
a steadfast meander;
you, the banks; I, the river;
We walk, we talk, we hold hands.
---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
My poetry sisters' cascade poems can be found here:
Kelly
Andi
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Bookseedstudio.
