ODE TO A TISSUE
(and an acrostic)
The faintest whiff of clean, starched sheets
In white, you lie flat, stiff, well pressed, waiting as
Shaking fingertips flounder, feeling for your straight, thin edge
Silently you caress my face, no, you are quietly humming
Unduly seasoned with salt from my tears.
Eternally crumpled, rolled up in a ball, do you have any regrets?
Shush, so happy to help.
© 2017 Donna JT Smith. All rights reserved.
Helen Frost has challenged us to write an ode poem this month, following these instructions:
Choose an object (a seashell, a hairbrush, a bird nest, a rolling pin). It should not be anything symbolic (such as a doll, a wedding ring, or a flag). Write five lines about the object, using a different sense in each line (sight, sound, touch, taste, smell). Then ask the object a question, listen for its answer, and write the question, the answer, or both.Click HERE to read her sample poem, "Ode to a River."
Post your poem on our March 2017 padlet. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, March 31st, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her latest novel-in-poems from Farrar, Straus, and Giroux/Macmillan: