a sequoia sprig falls...

[zenilda]

into reminiscent ripples of yesterday
the child’s reflection warps
the journey from silt to sun is complete
with bursting lungs and flailing arms

where a turtle perches on a stick,
we kick desperately to the surface,
the ancient keeper of time
by the light of the moon

like a womb in its monthly absence of life
and decomposed humus shedding tissue
through

Comments

[zenilda]

This was in response to a prompt from the NaPoWriMo site which asked to write a poem backwards, line by line, starting (ending) with a saying of some sort. I started this poem with the last line, "It takes a long time to become young," by Picasso....and worked my way up. In addition, the prompt suggests writing to an inanimate object. I thought about my children's reflection on the pond and imagined what the reflection would look like if it were me at their same age. So this was a poem written to my little girl self and her reflection. I'm loving how it changes, like a reflection on water, whether reading it top to bottom OR bottom to top. Fun!