Here is Chapter “P” of the April A-Z Challenge.
Since I decided to center my A-Z entries around my life, and since I’m a poet, I thought I’d briefly discuss what inspires me…presently and in remembrance…when I’m writing.
Quite honestly, I’m not sure how it all comes together. For instance, the sonnet I’ve put here (once again cuz it has a P word in it) was born while my husband and I were putting tiny blinky lights onto our Christmas tree and I remembered a costume party my parents had hosted 4o+ years before. When have I felt like this before? How is this moment connected to another? What do I see differently now? What is the same?
What I have discovered, writing this entry, is that getting from point A to point B doesn’t always make sense.
You took me to a party Sunday night.
I found the people there a rare delight!
But none is clearer in my memory
than one who wore a purple feathered tree
on top his head. Its twinkling lights were strung
just like a Christmas tree. So gay! So young!
And by an outlet he was forced to stand,
plugged-in, so everyone could see the grand
appearance of the tiny lilac lights
as they winked on and off. Such flashy sights!
This player might feel slighted, I confess,
without the mention of his mini-dress.
Such manly calves! I never will forget
how straight his seams ran up behind the net.
image via pixabay