All semester he’d seen himself as a
shrub in the shadow of her willow tree,
so when he asked her to dance, with a frog
in his throat, his right hand clinging
to a belt loop, his left in a pocket, tapping, he was unable to
look at her face, but he stared at her hair—a
yellow the color of lemon, no, of ripe banana,
no, the color of the Capitol’s gold-leaf
dome in the glow of the nighttime lights—and
as she nodded, her hair was swinging
in time, then he too was swinging, then they two were swinging.
Today’s prompt came from napowrimo.net: Write a “golden shovel” poem. Full explanation is at the link. In short, the last word of each line in your poem comes from an existing poem, so if you read the last words only, you get the complete original poem. In this case I used a haiku written by Kikaku, a student of Basho, as translated by Harold Henderson in An Introduction to Haiku. According to Henderson, this haiku is considered to be Kikaku’s comment on human life:
A tree frog, clinging
to a banana leaf–
and swinging, swinging.
6 thoughts on “Junior High Dance (NaPoWriMo Day 5)”
Yours seemed so much more fluid and easy like music than my “golden shovel” attempt kicking cow patties on a farm. Your banana doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb either. Good job!
Thank you! I thought yours was great. This was a really interesting challenge. Not easy, but I was quite satisfied with the result. Felt like I finished a puzzle. 🙂
Definitely relate to the feeling of finishing a puzzle, but in my case I felt like I shoved my last pieces in places they didn’t belong. I haven’t the will to start over. Lol
I love it! It flows so beautifully!
Thanks, Heather! It was fun to write.
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