I wrote these little poems. They are attempts at the Welsh traditional short poem form called englynion - specifically, the englyn unodl crwca, or crooked one-line englyn.
Sunday
looking now out the window,
solid gray clouds, drawn just so -
i lie down to read. let go of winter,
wishing for rain, but no.
Monday
the puddle of water shines,
the morning sun's brightness finds
streaks of mud and small cracks; signs like a map's
matching patchwork of lines.
These forms are quite restrictive, in the technical sense. I seem to prefer trying to write inside such constraints, sometimes.
[daily log: walking, 7km]
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