On, In and Around Mondays: Encounters are Generative

We walked North, kept the river behind us, or to the left. We spent a brief evening eating tortillas, beans, rice, salsa. And we talked.

It was the last night of the Encounter conference, and we had... an encounter. I know that, because when you have an encounter, something is always born. Bonnie loves poetry and Brooke sings it.

So it only seemed natural that out of our encounter... some poetry was born...


One for the Boys

You shut the doors
on me,
turned knobs
against night,
against how I sang
our blue-plucked
song.


Night Tune

to Bonnie and Brooke

Cry for me softly,
boys, open the doors
I'll sing of oaken trees

felled for a melodied
striptease of slatted floors
I'll sing of oaken trees

danced like Penelope
near thresholds of worlds
cry for me softly

sing back and echo me
as a river moves towards
I'll sing of oaken trees

girls strumming quietly
memories in minor chords
cry for me softly

hills upon lighted hills, or
faces past this old porch
will sing of my oaken trees,
cry for me softly.


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On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

If you could kindly link back here when you post, it will create a central meeting place. :)

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This post is also shared with Laura Boggess, for...