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 A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
| Getting It Said I actually caught up to the Promptly Poetry Challenge today. A poem intended to be read as a chant, meter all-important, meaning merely incidental and vague. I write more chants as time goes on. Anyway, when I’d finished, I read through the new poem and several of the ones I’d written to catch up. And realised that they were all about the same thing, in spite of the different prompts. I was reminded of Claude Monet, who spent his last few years painting endless pictures of the waterlilies on his pond. I’ve never understood how people can get stuck on one subject (or job) like that but I think I get it now. Old age has a lot to do with it. In the end, we write or paint what we’re thinking about. Word count: 133 |
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