Today I look back a year and show you last April in twenty images for my Calendar series, and in the poem talk to a giant floating island of plastics, as one does.
Prompt 11: “Following up on yesterday’s love poem, I have for you another deceptively simple challenge. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about a very large thing.“
To one of them giant plastic islands Who knows how many of you are out there, and how big you really are. I think they keep you out of sight, to spare us. Unknown floating objects. I hear you are growing new life forms. You are so advanced, aren’t you. So aware. Don’t you think it’s a little bit like when life decided to go on shore? The ocean as a whole was unaware though. Suddenly some... islands started to form. Inhabitants started to do strange things such as breathe. And crawl. And grow things. Is life moving to the islands of plastic, morphing into something else? Plastic as the new chlorophyll, condicio sine qua non? Lord knows that by the sound of them, some people are readier than others.
How about last April? In its first half, the pandemic was still on and we weren’t allowed to leave our municipality. A beautiful prison. When we could again, we forgot it was a holiday and the supermarket by the Orbetello lagoon was closed. We had to go for a walk, together! The only time it happened in the entire pandemic. This year we are still waiting for the holiday.
Previous months of 2021:
April in previous years:
The last day in my NaPoWriMo history
2018: Dressing the future
That’s an easy one.
We all die.
It’s so certain
that there’s no need for Future
or Future Perfect Tense.
First, the perfect present
– “I have been living” –
the future becomes perfectly tense.
Until it’s a wrap. (Read on.)
2019: Where I'm from
... or rational thoughts prevail: “You moved to God’s behind. There is nothing there. The only part of Italy without highway. You live in the middle of nowhere.” Yes, I and flamingos, dad. We know what’s good for us. So I arrived and didn’t return. It is as April now as it was then, six years ago this Sunday. I didn’t wear socks till November.
2020: Quarantine flowers
Do you want to find the right rhyme, and rank flowers fallen from grace? Now is still a good time. Jealousy, beauty sublime? Symbols are not in a race, and flowers are a good sign. Compared to what waits in line, quarantine is a good place, now is still a good time and flowers are a good sign.
2021: Dear Luka,
Tell me, how is it in the land of make believe? How do you cope? How do you live? Are you being made to pay for what others did in history? When you get hit, bitten, grabbed, pinched, scratched, smacked, how often a call comes and how often none?
This day in my blogging history
2014: In the time of your life, live—so that in that wondrous time you shall not add to the misery and sorrow of the world, but shall smile to the infinite delight and mystery of it. —William Saroyan
2014: The starting five: rosemary, thyme, marjoram, mint and sage. They didn’t last.