April is National Poetry Month, which for me means NaPoWriMo. Time again for a sustained burst of brief, intense, frenzied poetic scrawling—or typing, as the case may be.
I confess, I rarely write in longhand anymore, simply because the computer is so convenient and keeps the whirlwind of paper to a minimum. The following poem, however, did start its life on a sheet of notepaper, when a thought came to me yesterday morning while I was in the shower, and I scrambled to find something to write it down on before it escaped me. This morning when I sat down to flesh it out, it took on a life of its own and decided to be a tanka, which came as a surprise to me.
Beach Glass
Bright cobalt, sea foam,
bottle green shattered into
scattered shards too small
to be crushed again, frosted
smooth by turn of tide and time.
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