I’m a little behind on prompts, so this poem is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Wolf Moon, DVerse’s haibun Monday about beginnings, and JusJoJan day 7, “mix.”
At the beginning of this year, I think of the last — a mixture of joyous and difficult, heavy on the bitterness — and I get nervous. Emotions cannot void the truth: that I got through 2019 (someone even told me I was thriving), and the same can be for 2020. Memories of sadness stick a little better, but count the stars of happy moments — if you are able to number them.
After fullness starts anew —
This is the first time I am posting for DVerse Prosery. We are to write a piece of flash-fiction that includes a line from a poem. This week’s poem is “Cow” by Jim Harrison, and the line is “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.” Please tell me what you think, since this might get very strange. Have fun!
“the centre cannot hold;…
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?”
— W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”
The earth and heavens have flipped: A fish is floating in the sky. A deluge drives down from the dark clouds, evaporating before it hits the cracked aridity of desert ground. A dehydrated cow fears being dried into jerky, and searching fearfully and futilely, is screaming across the arroyo, while it jumps over the crater-covered moon.
The sun and moon are in a desert dance, as earth and sky are battling. They must find a way to meet in the middle, yet it is impossible. Soon all fish will be floating, clouds will vanish, and all arroyos will be silent and dry.
For Frank J. Tassone’s haikai prompt this week, we are writing about the Cold Moon, or the full moon of this month. It will happen on December 12th, which also happens to be the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, so I wrote this.
Atop a cold, wintry moon
Woman clothed with stars
For Frank J. Tassone’s haikai prompt this week. Click here for more info. It turns out that this month’s full moon was last night, and I didn’t realize it, though I did look at the moon. I wrote the above haiku yesterday. Then, this morning, upon reading that the “Hunter’s Moon” was actually yesterday, I wrote this:
I walk on cloud, stumbling into pools of moonlight
And lakes of midnight, stars’ eyes
Creating an Argus in the sky —
Watch me in wonder as I wander
a a r
m l d o y
To the banks of our galactic river —
“A land flowing with milk and honey.”
I decided to post this and share it with Real Toads’s “Try Everything” prompt, since I rarely write something this “creatively” formatted. This is basically a stream-of-consciousness poem, written a few days ago, and I’m not quite sure where it came from. What does it mean to you?