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DONNING THE T-SHIRT (SingingAsTheDarknessLifts #137)

DONNING THE T-SHIRT

 


 

       

This morning the sun is hazy behind clouds and the wind stirs the air to bring rich, strong notes of rosemary.

 

Alt text says this week’s photo is a person standing in front of a brick wall. It is indeed and the person is me. And I am wearing my 'Association of Business Poets' t-shirt.

 

Donning the t-shirt this week was a real pleasure because it meant that I was signifying my readiness to deliver a poetry workshop. The extra pleasure came because I was being invited back for a second visit. My destination... a housing association wherein I have found a wonderful group of poetry appreciators and poets.

 

My first visit on National Poetry Day last October featured me reading a set of my poems dedicated to that year’s chosen theme of ‘Play’. And during the visit I discovered that the group included people who wrote regularly, people who loved to listen and people who enjoyed the poetry writing exercise I had taken along. A fabulous mix, and one which got me thinking about what we could do together next if I was invited back.

 

When you have worked with a group of people once you get a real flavour of what else might be fun to do. I felt particularly excited at the thought of working together to create a group poem. This would be an even more dynamic way to celebrate National Poetry Day together because we would then have our own poem to share on the day itself.

 

In preparation for my visit I put together a set of my own poems on this year’s new theme of ‘Wonder’, and thought about an appropriate writing prompt. This time I wanted to do away with pencil and paper and stay in the moment whilst we were sharing creative thinking time, so I decided to record the offered responses. With the group’s permission I recorded what they were saying in response to different mini prompts. I then took the recordings away so that I could listen and see how the poem itself would reveal itself for typing up. I discovered that three poems were emerging and that the main one was there fully formed in the voice notes. I am so looking forward to recording it with them in October.

 

As we gathered together this time, I thoroughly enjoyed watching everyone settling in.  Anthologies of poetry were brought to the circle as well as poetry journals and individual poems. I felt lucky to be invited back to this creative community. This small group made up of lovely individuals is a wonderful place to be. It is enabling me to hear the poetry sets I put together with new ears. It brings the joy of spontaneous conversation and laughter. It is one of those spaces that is fully in the moment.

 

I listened carefully to see which poems resonated most with the group, and this poem, which was published this year by Atrium, was well received. The story of its origin opened up the floor for tales of Snowdon adventures. How lovely to have time and space to share the setting down of words in the fullest sense.

 

MY SISTER WENT TO LIVE ON THE MOON

 

After we climbed Snowdon,

my sister went to live on the moon.

 

And when it was new I paced all day

knowing she doesn’t like the dark.

 

I am still here on Earth feeling the gravity

and faithfully recording

what the air smells like each week.

I guess she knows that when she returns, I am going

to ask her what it smelt like there

each Monday morning

 

I google to see how long a moon day is.

I wonder why I never learned this at school,

but I guess they didn’t expect sisters

to be going to live there then.

 

There are different answers, but it’s clear

a day is almost an earth month.

 

She’s been gone three weeks now.

So for her that’s not even a day,

but to me it feels like a lifetime.

 

I imagine her happy when it’s full.

Her with her big smile

and that laugh as real as the time she said

we should go to the park

and dangle bacons on sticks to catch the carp 

the men in tents are always trying to catch.

 

But now I am confused whether she will even know.

 

All I can do is wait for unclouded nights

strap on my head torch

and wave and hope.

 

I don’t even know if she went there

because she still believes in the Man in the Moon

or to get away from me.

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