Oh, those memories are lighting the corners of my mind again.

night, first
sky dense, star-full —
cool, inviting, wild.
soft air
along my spine,
hinting at secrets
of you.
Your nearness —
scent, touch, echo, all —
your long-fingered hands in mine.

The Poetic Asides prompt for today is to write a “night” poem. And as soon as I read that, I remembered the day I met AC, the hours and hours that we spent talking, sitting under the fullest night sky I’d ever seen.  Even after everything that happened — and didn’t happen — between us, that night will always feel like magic.

My little Aruns, on the other hand, aren’t feeling so much like magic.  It’s early days still, it’s true, but worry about how the rest of the month will go.  I’m still having my issues with the single-syllable lines, still waiting for one of the poems to wow me, even if just a little bit.  Okay, that’s maybe not fair.  The hitch hiking poem pleased me well enough.  Perhaps I’m being unduly hard on myself and need to just turn off the critic and write?  Oh, right.  Right.



An Arun is a 15-line poem with the syllable count 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x.  It may be a new thing in the world, made up by me last year.  “Arun” means “five” in Yoruba.


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