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I dream of babies:
Content, rocking back and forth
I hum soft and low.
Then tenderly looking down
I find my arms are empty.
My daughter's birthday is the 14 of this month, and she graduates the 18th of next month. I suppose this has something to do with my dream...
The form is a Tanka, which is a
poem based on syllables, with the pattern being 5-7-5-7-7. They work best when
those final two 7-syllable lines contain a sort of turn or surprise that the
first three lines might not wholly anticipate. This prompt is from NaPoWriMo Day 11.
Okay, that chair is cool and sort of scaring me at the same time. The poem is lovely and sad. I think you capture the icky sense of loss that can accompany a sweetie-pie growing up. I enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteYou have some contrasts going on here. Think the poem has a sweet and melancholy feel, but the image is a bit eerie!
ReplyDeleteOh, they grow so quickly. Be proud of her accomplishments.
ReplyDeleteCool and freaky chair and before you know it they are grown and out of your lair and hair haha
ReplyDeleteI need to find a different image for this...thanks all for reinforcing that!
ReplyDeleteoy...i feel you...a turning of the page is coming...and that def affects your dreams....
ReplyDeleteBabies grow up. Sometimes I wonder if ever again I'll rock one....
ReplyDeleteThank you all.
ReplyDelete