Prompts

Teachers of creative writing have mixed views about the use of prompts (a prompt is an image, phrase, visual, question, or anything else meant to get a poet started in lieu of–or in addition to–“inspiration”). I have found them useful for practice; in my experience, occasionally a random prompt does result in a serviceable, or even good, poem. But I do not tend to use them regularly.

During this month of writing and posting a poem draft each and every day, I haven’t turned to prompts. I notice, though, that the drafts are perhaps more personal than I expected them to be.

This one doesn’t have a title yet:

~

Today there’s pain

opening with every blossom,

the pain of others

far from you, and also

those nearby. Even yours.

You see the world

as it is, how each bloom

attracts tiny ants

and the industrious bee,

later transforming

into hard green fruit.

Today you suffer the way

all things suffer

although you breathe

sweet air, although you

see the constant sun

now and then appearing

between dense, mobile clouds–

joy, flickering, brief,

but always possible.

Isn’t that also how

the world is? The cat’s

fur, soft beneath your

stroking thumb. Thrushes

uttering melodies for

anyone who will hear.

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