Greetings,
Poppycakes playing a little catch-up here. On Tuesdays, Poetic Asides runs a two-for prompt. I will likely be treating it as one stanza with a turn to it. At least that was this time's plan. Day two's prompts were to write a light poem and a dark poem. Day three was the tentative poem. Here are each of those as they gather in the glass frog poem.
2.
What It must be to filter light,
feel the trail it follows inside,
like intuition only warmer,
the knowing a glowing
such a little form
but standing, window
to the side, a lantern
and a teaspoon of starlight
how nightfall must fall
soft as cinder, the day
coating as slowly as dust
gathered on a piano.
3.
Slowly, slowly the body
opens, a thorn’s puncture
here, the water glass tumbles
and a clear tooth opens
a scarlet throat in the sole
of the foot, or a possum
halfway across a highway
scripted now in elaborate entrails.
We are drawn and repelled
by what spells us out in organed-
particulars, taking the view in
a little at a time. The glass frog
belies such patience, giving us
what we want, never want
from what we love: to see
the musicbox-machinery
that runs those wistful singings.