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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀When did you manage to get your coffee ground ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀without me stirring from my dreams at the sound? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And why did you trade in the fantasies of our night ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀so easily for morning newspaper black and white? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀How can cold morning so quickly extinguish fire ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sparked to its life by so wildly electric a live wire? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Is this it then? This hole? Wasn’t I your only one? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Have the decency to tell me what wrong I’ve done. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀What’s today, October? Leaves dying on our tree? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀How long since you left? Does it matter? Utterly. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀So how long will tomorrow be since I saw dawn? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I ceased keeping up with time after you went gone. ⠀ |
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prompted by A Birthday in August ~ Sara Teasdale
at the imaginary garden with real toads,
borrowing endwords from Teasdale’s There Will Come Soft Rains,
as posted at The Writer’s Almanac
heavily influenced by Daily Prompt: Back to the Future
at the Daily Post
clarior e tenebris 
I am so pleased to see that you have been inspired by Teasdale’s poetry. Here is another great piece. The couplets work very well, and the simple statements draw the reader in to the scenario you describe.
Teasdale is a favorite of Denise’s, so I was already acquainted with her work, to put it mildly. Although lit teachers and others have encouraged modeling a new poem after one previously written (and in a sense, we do that to a degree any time we adhere to a set verse form), your challenge has given me my first excuse to use Teasdale for my pattern. If nothing else, it’s got Denise smiling.
Thanks for your time reading and commenting. And for the good reading Denise and I have shared with the other poets’ takes on Teasdale.
Nice, I like the title and theme ~ The opening two couplets are my favorites ~
My title is a personal tear for a friend we lost. She wrote several aubades and loved the poignant tug of reading aubades another friend of ours has collected. I’ve not yet written an aubade myself, but this seemed a respectful way to say I miss her, by indirectly pointing over to some inexpressible morning parting we’ll now no long have.
Mixed in with other skipped partings this refers to, with any residual anger in this not meant for our lost friend.
And yes, I felt most wistful over writing the first two couplets here. Blame it on me forcing myself to repeat Teasdale’s own endwords. And blame it on me being better at that for those first two pairs than I could manage for the rest. I excused it by feeling the loosening to be a natural reflection of the mood of the moment, at first a very focused realization of being alone that was quite concrete, followed by wallowing in a fog of self-pity. But the truth is, I just went lazy on it. Make me do a second draft, and maybe I could improve those other couplets.
“Does it matter? Utterly.” That’s the line that got me.
*smile*. Thanks. As mentioned in another comment here, the truth is that I had problems adhering to my goal of recycling Teasdale’s own endwords, especially past the first two pair, and extremely so when that “utterly” gave me fits. How I tentatively solved it was to envision circumstances under which I might literally utter so old-fashioned a word. And since this poem does reflect an amalgamation of some extreme personal experiences of my own, at least I can sincerely say that line’s honest, in the sense of how it crosses my mind. So even if I do re-draft, that piece might survive. Thanks for reading and commenting.
I agree with Kerry and your poem made me think of me…I’m always so ready to abandon bed for coffee and writing in the A.M. hours!
I’ve been up earlier than my usual these past verbal months myself. Leaving Denise to maybe be the better one to tighten up the perspectives on this piece, since my own personal reflections in it are aging. Thanks for reading and commenting.
I’ve been working sort of backwards through your poems after not visiting in blogland much the last few days. There Will Come Soft Rains was one of the very first poems I encountered as a child via a vinyl record of poetry played by a fourth grade teacher. This and Poe’s The Bells sent me on a writing tear. Both have been on my mind lately — so imagine my surprise as finding Teasdale’s ‘here’. Hmmm.
Hello. I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read here today.
Thank you.
Always, thank you for reading and sharing. Myself, I’m sure I must have been exposed to Teasdale earlier, but I only recall coming to her via Denise, just a few years ago. I’ve enjoyed today’s prompt from the Toads that triggered my Teasdale Sunday, and I hope I’ve only done honor to her own poetry by the shadows I’ve drawn.
I love “What’s today, October?”
It really illustrates the feeling of time distorted by loss or heartbreak.
K
Thanks, Kay. Quite right, since this is meant as an August poem, for when composed. But drought conditions have some of our trees already shedding leaves, probably in itself a poem. And with heartbreak’s time own time distortion reflecting another poetry prompt for today – anachronism – it felt right here. Which doesn’t mean it won’t be spared if I follow through on my threat to revise much of this one. ✒Cyn
Nice. Not an uncommon experience, unfortunately. I’ll pull some others like it and open up a new hall in my aubade museum.
*first in line for the grand opening*
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