This past weekend, I was approached by an editor of a new anthology of poetry. He asked me to contribute a couple of poems to a project that he's developing. It's an exciting opportunity, and, of course, I accepted the offer.
The only issue is that I have to write in some kind of poetic form: a sonnet or pantoum or tanka or sestina. I usually write free verse, so this will be a challenge for me. I have written only one sestina in my life. I've diddled with sonnets (to greater and lesser degrees of success) and experimented with haiku. I am a little nervous, but I will give it my best shot.
When faced with a new writing challenge, I turn to poetry for inspiration. Tonight, that would be Janeen Rastall.
Saint Marty needs to get in touch with his inner poetic goddess tonight.
When Asked About My Inner Goddess
by: Janeen Rastall
I said I am the goddess of dirt.
I am the loam where seeds burst.
Roots, like old mens’ toes, curl into my side.
I am the keeper of secrets:
lost keys, skeletons and phones.
I dance like a devil with the wind.
I am the place where leaves shred underfoot,
where fallen birds die.
I hold the ice close.