I’m taking this morning to share a few “works in progress” generated from prompts I’ve shared recently.

My hope is that these prompts are just as generative for me as they might be for anyone else. The hardest part, of course, is actually sitting down to write. That’s what I tried to do this past week.

As we make our way into March, here’s my February poem:

February

Snow tracked inside turns
to puddles despite cold
that’s settled in bones.
I wonder where I’ve been,
and how did the days unfold,
what did I eat, who did I call,
how days full of shattered
ice, and long walks, grey and
blue morning shades,
bird songs, and bitter chill
coalesce, become a month,
one that comes and goes
as quickly as I imagined
it would. Still, there’s no
stopping that winter
outside my front door, or
spring making itself known.
My sock is wet as I wander
this house, as I warm again,
as I hold onto February with
cracked skin and bare nails.
A month for remembering
we invented time; now
it runs away without us.

And last week, I shared a prompt about reorienting to a place of your past as your current self. Here’s mine:

River Bend

Small, crouching closer to earth
still, to see life up close,
hints of heaven stooping low
in the form of a single feather among leaves.

Now, making way through woods
whispering, to be quiet,
hearing what has been, lost to years,
taking time, offering a return.

There’s more I’d like to do with these poems. But for now, we call it a victory to write, and to share.

Next week, I’ll be back with another prompt.

So long, February. Welcome to March!

Best,
L.A. Sklba