Today’s prompt challenges us “to write in a specific form – the nonet! A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second has eight, and so on until you get to the last line, which has just one syllable.” (Full NaPoWriMo post available here.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about the mind lately, how it’s both a blessing and a curse and how lucky we are to forget and to remember. Here are three nonets on the topic.
The Mind Is a Cave
Where I stack memories like ingots.
Some are not to be shared and brought
back to life. Once in a while,
I bring down the ceiling.
I start a bonfire.
I haunt these ruins
like a mad
The Mind Is a Tree
Each morning I prune lifeless branches.
Each night I peek into empty
nests. Seasons go by and spring
never comes. Lonely tree
dreams to encompass
the wind. To lure
back home its
We Are Time
I have not sunk enough to pretend
I am new. The day has nothing
to say, except blink into
the sun. Are you awake?
I forgot your face
yet I see you.
The shape of
And because I’m trying to catch up with the missed NaPoWriMo prompts, here’s my response to the early-bird Dickinson challenge (find prompt here). Being in a witchy nonet-induced mood, I chose the second line from the list and ran with it.
The absence of the Witch does not
Invalidate the spell.
Which Witch are you, they asked,
Knife at my breast. Pray tell.
I broke the mirror, took my own eye.
My sisters: silent, tame.
I knew a spell once like I knew their names.
I knew a spell once like I knew the sky.