23 March 2017

Poetry Thursday: Rituals

This week, on World Poetry Day (21 Mar), I spent a good bit of time sifting through old poetry posts on this blog. It was a reminder that (a) one of my goals for 2017 was to write more, and (b) it has been about 10 years since I've written any poetry. Even though the original Poetry Thursday project stopped updating in 2007, the blog is still active and I thought I would start mining their archives for prompts to get myself writing poetry again.

Since this was a last-minute decision, I won't be posting anything new today. Instead, I'm posting a 29-year-old poem that I am guessing is closest to the type of poetry I would write today. I couldn't resist the urge to do some light editing. When I was 18 I thought it was more impactful to put only two or three words on each line, but now that style looks stilted to me. I left the actual wording alone, though. Feel free to post any constructive criticism in the comments.


Every morning,
Without fail,
She stands at the bus stop
Waiting for the 7:20.
And every morning,
Without fail,
He passes by her on his 10-speed bicycle,
Heading for the cafe on the corner
Where he works.
She inhales deeply his cologne
Which lingers in the air
And raises her hand in greeting
While a hesitant smile plays across her lips.
He returns her wave nonchalantly
And turns his head towards the traffic.
She turns away also,
Hoping that he can't see
The air of longing hovering over her
Like a summer storm cloud
About to burst.

--Dani M. Sanders, 14 Apr 1988

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