I wrote a poem six years ago that continues to fascinate me. I like the simple idea that generated it and I think the words of the poem capture it well. I’m going to put all iterations here. The poem is titled, “March 8 in Maine”.
A new warm day Whispers
Around the doors and windows,
Pushing into the mud beneath the pond,
Rousing the winter still there,
The turtle Ignores the call.
A new warm day Whispers
Around the doors and windows,
Pushes into the mud beneath the pond,
Announces its arrival and
Rousts the winter still there,
The turtle ignores the call.
A new warm day Announces its arrival and Whispers
around the doors and windows,
Pushes into the muck beneath the pond,
and
Relaxes the grip of winter still there,
The turtle Responds.
I don’t have a favorite. I believe the third iteration gets too technical even as it fills my needs. I’ll continue to revisit this one for a few more years certainly. The first two were written in 2012-2014 period. This last one is today’s effort. 2018. Of course there are still a several feet of snow covering the landscape and the day started out in the high 20’s F.
I’m presently working on a story of Sperm whales and Giant squids. Just writing that line makes my breath accelerate. I’ll try to get it polished and published today. Maybe.
G. M. Goodwin
18 March 2018
Playing Fair and Being Kind 