Poetry Snippets for GloPoWriMo

It's April (woohoo) and I'm bunged up with a head cold and my birch allergy, so I'm hiding indoors though the weather isn't too cold. Spring always gets started without me when it finally comes along as there is just so many birch trees here. Time for writing, watching rugby and indoor chores. Not too bad a way to spend the weekend. 

April is also time for the write-a-poem-a-day challenge from NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo. I've been posting my attempts on my various social media channels and have managed to keep up the first six days. I don't always manage a full poem, but usually have a start I can play with over the next month or so. I use various sites for inspiration, including the official site listed above, Wendy Pratt's Substack prompts, Todd Dillard's thought-provoking prompts (he has the last few years' threads on Twitter, I think, but I won't link to there) and my Substack feed in general. I'm enjoying the break in my day to come up with some lines or just play with words. 

Here are my first six days. I only post snippets as I may want to publish the finished poems.

Day 6 

my children think I’m mocking them

when I play his song

think I don’t get it

overplayed, it’s become cliched

and I don’t

not how they see it

but I remember watermelon

the sizzle, the splash

too eager

when it’s fresh

Day 5

I present as gifts

my scratches of language

the bookshop receipts 

in suitcase pockets

the curled milkweed pods

nettle stings

on my wrist and ankle to kiss

I never forget the orange glow of the city 

and of the crackling aurora

my compass is the cold sea

and humbling rain

Day 4

beneath the barbed-wire taste 

of a rust sunset

I drag my heels to say goodbye

Day 3

let myself drown 

in the salt and cold timing

between us

waves of decades 

and distance that gnaws

and gnaws at me

I am mortal and I love

Day 2

the braiding of long memory

did not foreshadow this rebirth

I cannot utter regrets

to be so carried away

all sense is burned to fragments

time drones on untuned

as I give in

Day 1

I walk my routine

repetition and longing

to the school door

a portrait of my daily self 

worn down

first bell to last