poems

What type of poetry do I write- here's a sneak preview.  I belong to a local small group of poets and the latest challenge was a pantoum.

Pantoum

Looking down on the top of the takeawy evening

its white-bagged fragility, its steam fried rice dimming light

already autumn pulls away yellow like dried thin pears

already the topmost twigs are pouching for spring.

Its white-bagged fragility, its steam fried rice dimming light

the twitching of car lights, the heads down counting to home

already autumn pulls away yellow like dried thin pears

and the clouds fill with drought-dust, collective expanding sighs.

The twitching of car lights, the heads down counting to home

eagerness for TV to recount the day's gloom when outside

already the topmost twigs are pouching for spring

and upstairs a yoga class salutes to the sun.

© Lorraine Marwood