Catherine offered the Inklings this month’s challenge, choosing from the June challenges of Audrey Gidman:
Read “Digging” by Seamus Heaney. Think about something that has been handed down to you—from a parent, a grandparent, an elder in your life—that feels alive in you now. Think of how it is the same and think of how it has transformed in you. Notice how, for Heaney, it’s gardening and writing—two kinds of digging, but still the digging continues through the generations. Write a poem that digs into what was handed down to you and examines what you carry now.
What was handed down to me? Scissors. Fine fabric shears still in the box, pinking shears, at least four pairs of embroidery scissors of various sizes along with three pairs of antique crane scissors, two pairs of children’s safety scissors including one pair shaped like an elephant, a miniature pair of scissors, the orange-handled Fiskars I received when I began sewing, and the round-tipped baby’s fingernail scissors from her bathroom vanity drawer.
So my “digging” became cutting. Cutting away, layer by layer. Snipping, slicing, shredding, clipping.
The title for this poem came from a post by Jill Badonsky on Substack. And the (surprise to me) ending arrived when I studied a diagram of the parts of scissors.
Here are the other Inklings, who may or may not have had the bandwidth to meet this month’s challenge, what with travel and other assorted summer joys.
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Michelle has this week’s Poetry Friday roundup at More Art 4 All.
A(nother) Year of Reading 