Wednesday, April 30, 2014

As Snow Succumbs to Spring - NaPoWriMo 30/30!

Day 30! Another NaPoWriMo attempted and accomplished! I probably say it every year, but this year's yield of poetry has been nothing short of staggering. There's been a discernible increase in the quality of my writing from last year, and I've had an absolute blast writing and reading the crop of this season. There is so much poetry I still haven't read...I expect to still be going through the list of NaPoWriMo participants and reading their stuff throughout the rest of the year. What an amazing month.

Anyway, here is today's poem, inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt:
And now for our final (yet still optional!) prompt. Today, as befits the final poem of NaPoWriMo, I challenge you to write a poem of farewell. It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever — like I said, NaPoWriMo will be back again next year. If you need a little inspiration, you might find some in perusing this selection of goodbye-and-good-luck poems from the Poetry Foundation website.
Taking that idea, and combining it with the terribly warm spring weather Oregon is currently rejoicing over, I turned out the following piece.

I hope you enjoy, I hope you have a great year, and hopefully this blog will stay more active through the rest of the year than it has in the past. I'll try!

Also, if anyone had an interest in entering my book giveaway, today is the last day to enter. At midnight tonight, the competition will close and I'll draw two winners. So, head over and pop a comment if you want to win some books!

And now, the last poem of NaPoWriMo 2014! Adieu and sayoonara!

As Snow Succumbs to Spring

I thought you liked my icicles.
I remember you
curling your butterfly-tongue around their stems,

but I'm cast off like a sweaty hat.
With Jerusalem's caprice
you watch the soil absorb my ice and snow,

the sun stuffing my mouth with gold,
this frigid breath entombed
beneath simbelmynë and moss,

put away like that over-worn scarf you loved
just weeks ago, traded for a redder nape
and sun-ogled collarbones.

I don't begrudge you your undulating tastes. The need
that steals you from my drifts will chase you
from embrace to embrace,

a salivating wolf, howl ringing you clear of this whisper,
the chill you'll entreat when sick of summer's bruises.
You always do.

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