Somehow January has flown by. I just realized that I haven’t managed to show up for Poetry Friday more than once. Yikes! That’s a trend I intend to break, so I’m showing up a day late to the gathering.
I love when Pádraig Ó Tuama reminds me to try out a pantoum (here). His formula always yields interesting results. He says to write 8 lines, number them and put them into this order: 1,2,3,4 2,5,4,6 5,7,6,8 7,3,8,1. Then he says, “As lines repeat, feel free to punk them up a bit.” So here’s my pantoum-ish poem:
New Year’s Day
I forgot to watch for the first bird
I watch the snow fall instead
The trees shiver, draped in winter white and
we have eight blue birds at the feeder
I watch the snow fall
Even inside, the air by the windows is cold
While blue birds come and go from the feeder
my pen stumbles and starts
The air by the windows remains cold
As the moon descends, the sun peeks over the horizon
My pen stumbles and starts
The stack of firewood is getting low
The moon has disappeared: the sun peeks over the horizon
The trees are graceful, draped in winter white
The stack of firewood is getting low
I forgot to watch for the first bird
©Molly Hogan, draft
This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Tabatha at her blog, The Opposite of Indifference.
Nix the comfort zone 
A beautiful snapshot into the mind of a writer, distracted by the winter scene outside the window and invasive thoughts of things neglected (first bird, bringing in wood).
We thought we heard bluebirds while walking recently in the neighborhood (according to the Merlin app at any rate). My friend sent pictures of some at her feeder, so I’m feeling more confident that we did. Even if I haven’t seen them, I love knowing they are there. There are so many things we can’t see with our own eyes, but knowing they exist in the world gives huge helpings of hope.
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I love feeling success with this form. I tried it with a poet friend recently and should go back to punk it. Yours sets the serene scene of your farmhouse in Maine on a snowy day. While I don’t think I would take too well to the cold, I do love the quiet noticing of your poem.
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Love your “punking” Molly — AND Padraig’s pantoum prompts!
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I love the vivid images of the blue birds against white snow, and of the writer’s pen, stumbling and starting.
As my daughters would say, “It’s a mood.” 🙂
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Molly, this is gorgeous. I too loved that instruction to punk up some of the lines. My notebook has some pantoum fits and starts after O’Touma, too. But, all the winter lines in this poem work so well together the cold feeling near the window, the firewood, the bluebirds. This poem is painterly…so pretty. Thank you for getting back to PF. I needed this beauty today.
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Your lines just seem to flow without hesitation, Molly. Pantoums can sometimes feel daunting, but O’Touma’s instructions and your example make it feel like a doable form. Thank you.
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