Slow Dissolve into Drizzle and Fog

This week, my online studies are taking me into the world of "Formalism and Meter."  Discussions propose the idea that form can liberate the imagination, that the constraints of form can lead to new material and can be a way to generate new poems.

One of the forms we've studied is the pantoum, a poem of any length composed of four line stanzas. In each stanza, the second and fourth lines of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. And the last line of the pantoum is generally the same as the first.  The form removes certain elements of choice for the poet as one adheres to the rules. And that can be kind of freeing. It is a good form in which to tell a story, as the elements of repetition unfold just a bit at a time, as well as offering musicality in the retelling.

The following is a draft of my homework assignment.  I have revision to do, but wanted to share where I am to date. Also, I have discovered that I don't like writing in a controlled form, at least not yet.  I am encouraged to hear from others that this gets easier the more often one does it. I do hope so. Sometimes learning is such hard slogging.

Slow Dissolve into Drizzle and Fog

This memory returns each winter

with February thaw, the slush, black ice.

We skid and climb the foggy air,

and land, buried by snow.

Slush and black ice, February thaw,

fog rises, surrounds, blinds us;

buried by the fog and wet snow.

Motor heat melts the snow keep deeper.

Fog rises, surrounds, blinds us.

Grey car, grey fog, grey morning.

Motor heat melts the snow keep deeper.

I shovel fast to free you.

Grey car, grey fog, grey morning,

we disappear under fog and drizzle.

I shovel fast to free you.

Twice, the tow truck drives by.

We disappear in this drizzle and fog,

after the skid and that slope of air.

The tow truck drives by us again.

Every winter this memory returns.

Words and photo are copyright 2011-2015 Carol Steel