Today, I challenge you to fill out, in no more than five minutes, the following “Almanac Questionnaire,” which solicits concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of your answers. You can see the Almanac Questionnaire in full here http://www.napowrimo.net/day-sixteen-3/
Here’s my response:
The law at sixty three
When I was thirteen I climbed The Law:
once a volcano they said, now extinct.
I wore a red cotton anorak, brown shoes.
Today I am older, the weather grey,
the rocks slippery in the light rain,
the mountain gear waterproof.
Grey turrets rise from the town below
skirted by squat Scottish bungalows;
yellow gorse trims golf course greens
and in the Firth boats fish for crabs,
dip and soar on white-topped waves.
Once my childhood dream was to
travel to far countries. Now my hair
has started to grow again and the
white summit trig point shouts
its black graffiti; live for the moment.
In the afternoon the sun shines.
How I did it:
I used my responses to the following on the ‘almanac questionnaire’:
Weather: grey
Flora: yellow gorse
Architecture: Scottish – turrets and bungalows
Customs: fishing and afternoon tea
Mammals/reptiles/fish: crabs
Childhood dream: travel to far countries
Graffiti: live in the moment
Dress: mountain gear
Scrap from a letter: my hair has started to grow again
The poem that came out is based upon something I did very recently – I had my first holiday after cancer treatment and climbed North Berwick Law fifty years after my first ascent! The ‘scrap from a letter’ was in an email from a fellow cancer-patient and the graffiti words on the trig point were just right!
That’s an autobiography in itself! I love the images of the gorse and the boats fishing for crabs. Sounds like everybody’s childhood.
I have returned from Scotland holding the colours in my head, so I guess it’s not surprising that these images came out! We watched the crabs being brought in at Dunbar harbour on the sunny afternoon that followed.
It’s good to be able to go back and refresh memories. I always find things change so quickly the memories get muddied. I prefer to keep moving on. The coward’s way out maybe.
Muddied memories make evocative poetry, though! Generally we write through a lens that distorts slightly, and I like that.
I used to try to sort out memories into ‘fact’ and ‘vague’. Now I don’t think it matters. The important thing is what it means.
And whether your readers connect …
A good story’s a good story.
Beautiful poem. I love the comparison between you climbing the Law the first time and climbing it a second. Wonderful concrete poetry.
Thank you, Carol. It was interesting what came together from a few random images and phrases!
I love this poem. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Sarah – it has a special message!