I love this form! This is how I wrote a short piece this afternoon and then revised it to fit the form. 3 syllables for the Holy Trinity, 7 lines the divine number. How elegant the form is! Thanks for sharing. I’m reading your Decades collection now with great enjoyment:
The dogwood tree out front
Is a master of making autumn last.
Its leaves begin to gather deep red streaks in August, while it yet clings a few crimson tinted leaves close in mid November.
Thank you for introducing Cid Corman. Alongside structure, I can see threads of influence in the meditative way your poems observe the world and bring solace.
This poem reflects sparingly a quietude and with it, an acceptance that comes in late autumn as we prepare for winter. Life can zoom by so quickly and I appreciate the way the words, like breadcrumbs, lead me to slow down and ponder the meanings in between the brief lines. This poem invites me to see Autumn as an old friend. Or at least a witness to a ritual or a memorable exchange. Sometimes words can go unsaid because none are needed. Bliss exists right next to pain at times, and perhaps it needs to. Rain to snow, the impending heaviness of the “brink of night,”(God, that’s a perfect way to put light’s scarcity during this season) - and an open window, breathing in blinding light…for me, the snow is the consolation.
I love this form! This is how I wrote a short piece this afternoon and then revised it to fit the form. 3 syllables for the Holy Trinity, 7 lines the divine number. How elegant the form is! Thanks for sharing. I’m reading your Decades collection now with great enjoyment:
The dogwood tree out front
Is a master of making autumn last.
Its leaves begin to gather deep red streaks in August, while it yet clings a few crimson tinted leaves close in mid November.
A dogwood
Tree out front
Makes autumn
last. Red in
August; a
Few leaves still:
November.
Beautiful poems--they share the aesthetics of your photos, which are also really great, sort of American Zen.
Thank you for introducing Cid Corman. Alongside structure, I can see threads of influence in the meditative way your poems observe the world and bring solace.
This poem reflects sparingly a quietude and with it, an acceptance that comes in late autumn as we prepare for winter. Life can zoom by so quickly and I appreciate the way the words, like breadcrumbs, lead me to slow down and ponder the meanings in between the brief lines. This poem invites me to see Autumn as an old friend. Or at least a witness to a ritual or a memorable exchange. Sometimes words can go unsaid because none are needed. Bliss exists right next to pain at times, and perhaps it needs to. Rain to snow, the impending heaviness of the “brink of night,”(God, that’s a perfect way to put light’s scarcity during this season) - and an open window, breathing in blinding light…for me, the snow is the consolation.
an intriguing form; thanks for bringing it to our attention joseph
These are poignant. Thank you for explaining the Cid Corman form. I wondered why you cut the lines the way you did. It's a fascinating form to try.
Wow I learned something new about poetry form.🤩
Love it! Might try my own.
Very cool! What’s the form called?
He didn’t name it.
"It's snowing" fits into this form.