Don’t Just Stand There, Open Your Umbrella Before me in the east, wrapped in a billowing headdress, sun peeks. Without turning, I can hear grumbles of unrest, while before me in the east, with a well-practiced technique, coyly half-dressed, sun peeks at the growling purple beast storming in from the west. Before me in the east she begins to disappear behind clouds that fume and crest. Sun peeks one last time. Then the storm releases all the rage it had suppressed. Before me in the east, sun no longer peeks. ©Mary Lee Hahn, 2021
The Poetry Sisters’ challenge for this month was to write a villanelle on the theme of dichotomy. Have you ever noticed that villanelle begins with villain (almost)? This is a doozie of a form and the added challenge of a dichotomy…whew! I started one with the repeating lines
In early May, on a whim, I chose
zinnia seeds to plant in rows.
I managed to make it all the way through a villanelle with those lines, but it fell apart in revision. Luckily, I wrote several villanelles in July! I’m not sure there’s any clear dichotomy in this one (stormy/sunny?), and I definitely bent the rules a bit with my last line, but I had fun with enjambment!
Rebecca has this week’s Poetry Friday roundup at Sloth Reads.