I reworked an old poem and practically became a new poem. I’d like to try to write longer poems in the future but for now they are short. I’m still working on my novel rewrite despite me wanting to go head first into any one of my other novel ideas. I had a dream last night that would fit perfectly in my trilogy or at least, the first book in the trilogy. Yet, I have a pecking order to follow for various reasons. On that note, here is the poem.
These are the lattice dollies
your grandma made when all her children
had fully grown and her boys
were a foot taller than her.
When the trees in her yard turned
from glistening green to radish red
it was the scent of fall arriving that
her heartbeat quickened.
These are the spikes
your grandpa hammered into the hard ground
to give strangers without names
something to ride in.
When the leaves in his yard fell
and white covered the yellow grass
it was the awareness of hibernation that
his heartbeat slowed.
There are the memories of the
past where water turns into ice
and life might change into death
with prospect of another year to cherish.