A Drift of Quills for March 2018

​It’s March, and as the temperatures in my neck of the woods are holding steady at just above freezing, we Quills are posting our latest.
 
Some months ago, we tried our hands at flash fiction. This time around we’re offering some of the flashiest—by which I mean shortest—flash fiction going. That is, spine poetry.

In truth, the real poet in my family is my middle child. But I’ll give it a whirl! Take a look first, at what my fellow-Quills have come up with.

I'm inviting Robin Lythgoe, author of As the Crow Flies, to be the first to take the stage.

​Have at it, Robin!

​My taste in poetry is questionable.

I gravitate toward freeform (usually only my own—how arrogant!), the unusual (sample below), or limericks and “revised” song lyrics (for which I blame my husband).

In my teens I went through an angsty period where I wrote reams of freeform poetry, 98% of which were terrible. Wrist to forehead dramatically, I determined I would make my living as a moody poet. Until I discovered…

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Thank you, Robin! What fun! 

Now P.S. Broaddus, author of A Hero's Curse, will regale us with his musings.

Poetry pushes us to the limit of our understanding – to the edge of ourselves. That’s why it can be so chaotic and disorienting, but it can also be where we learn something new. Something that we couldn’t have known before, had we not been challenged. 

But the challenge of poetry is a soft one. A gentle breeze that carries us beyond, to a new place, and then brings us back, changed. Because when you learn something, you change. You become something new. The old has died...

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That is great stuff, Parker. Thank you.

Finally, my thoughts . . .

​These days, as I’m wrapping up my latest work, I’m realizing how much of what I write is intended for—is directed specifically at and to—young women. While I’m certainly old enough, I have no grandchildren of my own. I’m finding, however, that the grandmother in me is coming out anyway. She comes via my life as an author, and my granddaughters include any young women who’ll listen. So, I guess you might say that I’m doing a bit of “spiritual grandmothering.” I think this is reflected in my spine poetry today.
 
Here goes:

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If I had to add punctuation to this, I guess it would look something like this:
 

The Signature of God

Beyond glory, the hiding place,
Spiritual mothering.
Our sacred honor
Under God.

What do you think?

Now it's your turn to share your spine poetry!