Prompt: Write a kimo, an Israeli poetic form that tends to capture a moment (like a photograph in words), using three unrhymed lines with syllable count 10, 7, 6.
I found myself considering the sadness of leaves and seeds that fall where they can neither decompose nor have the opportunity to germinate and grow. And so, on a (serious) whimsy, I promised the residue on the garage floor that when I was finished with taking their photographs, there, I would gather up them all and return them to the outdoors, where they may decay, or sprout, and live again.
I cry for the leaves on the garage floor
thrown out in new plastic bags
not renewing the soil
Write a kimo, an Israeli form that tends to capture a moment (like a photograph in words), using three unrhymed lines with syllable count 10, 7, 6. (Cuyahoga County Public Library)
ice crystals scattered in a shrinking patch
glistening in the sunlight…
exhaling their last breaths
My first poem for this Monday was written for the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge, and can be found on my Quilted Poetry blog: River’s Crest.