This month’s prompt was to write a monotetra — a form made up of rhymed and metrical quatrains, and closing with a line of two identical phrases. (I cheated on that last part slightly. I love formal constraints and I also love cheating. Sorry.)
Also, our overarching theme this year is TRANSFORMATION and I made the additional promise to look at a particular scientific process each time! Oy.
Anyway, I spent a month in the midwest this summer, with family, at a lakey, cottagey place I’ve gone to since I was a child. A lakey, cottagey place my dad’s gone to since he was a child. This poem came from the funny, lovely luck of that place and those people… and although it’s a bit of a stretch, scientifically speaking, I’m calling the process this month STABILITY.
Stability: A Monotetra
Liz Garton Scanlon
And like a game of kick the can
my memories run home again –
sunburns and screen doors, old sedans,
a grilled cheese in the frying pan
as sharp as grandma’s lemon drops
or off-the-high dive belly flops
alive again with all the props,
oh please don’t stop, don’t ever stop
Now, read more monotetras here:
From Tanita
From Mary Lee
From Tricia
From Laura
From Sara
And more poems of all sorts and stripes at Poetry Friday, being hosted by Jan at BookSeedStudio!
Next month, we’re creating an Exquisite Corpse poem. These collaborative poems necessarily involve yourself and at least one other poet, passing lines or stanzas forward, so now’s the time to choose poetry compatriots. Are you in? Good! The Poetry Sisters are continuing with our 2023 theme of TRANSFORMATION – and we’re going to also sneak in a few of Linda Mitchell’s clunkers to give us more to play with. If you’re still game, you have a month to craft your creation and share it on August 25th in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals.
You had me at “a grilled cheese in the frying pan”… what a blessing to have a home base with layers upon layers of good memories.. This summer, we took the grandkids to wade in the same Smoky Mountain creek that our families did back in the day. So satisfying to see them enjoy it.
Love the full circle-ness of this, and all of the concrete relatable details. But the photo, oh the photo! Someday I want to sleep on a summer porch under a quilt made by a long ago but never forgotten ancestor!
It’s like I’m RIGHT there, Liz. Beautiful and fresh and wonderful poem. Nailed it.
Liz, this brings me back to my grandmother’s cottage by a lake. All of the bedroom walls ended at the roof line, so the open space below the ceiling connected every bedroom. Good night, John Boy! Sunburns, screen doors, grilled cheese, belly flops – you truly captured the feelings! Thank you for sharing your experience!
I just want to hug this whole poem AND the photograph. I never had a childhood “place” our family returned to, but I am so privileged that you are sharing yours today. Thank you. How beautiful your whole family is.
Oh, that sounds so wonderful! My family is one of rolling stones, no one has ever lived long enough in one place to set down these kinds of roots. But I’m a homebody – perhaps I can be to the one to start the tradition. 🙂
If “sunburns and screen doors” doesn’t recall summer, I don’t know what does. 🙂 I also love that sleeping porch. Beautiful!
We have a screen door that often slams as customers enter & I think of summer memories every time, Liz. Now with this poignant poem, you’ve brought me there again to a place from my childhood. It isn’t continuing as yours is, lucky you, but memories stay. Your poem is so lovely, adore the “alive again with all the props,”.
For me what’s striking about this poem is the economy of it–two stanzas only and some of it devoted to the how of stability rather than the what, and yet both what and how come sailing through, carrying our human craving for tradition and ritual. Bonza, Liz!
Ah how delightful your poem is Liz, thanks for inviting us onto the loveliest porch and offering lingering flavors of the summer, perfect ending too, thanks!
You packed a lot into two stanzas. I think the brevity props up this form. I love the repeat in the last line.
Thanks for sharing such lovely memories. Both you and Mary Lee shared poems this month that put readers in a nostalgic mood.
Liz, your sweet poem brings so many lovely family memories to play. Stability is a great name for it. The grilled cheese, kick the can, belly flops, lemon drops, and so many more vivid sensory details make this poem pop. It’s beautiful.