Happy May first! Time for another Inkling Challenge. This month, Heidi, who is a master of wordplay, challenged us to up our game in that department and “Celebrate May by writing a poem that Maykes use of the verbs may, might, could, can, ought.” She shared this helpful information from The Britannica Dictionary: “These verbs are all modal verbs, which means that they are generally used in combination with other verbs, and are used to change the verb’s meaning to something different from simple fact. Modals express possibility, ability, prediction, permission, and necessity.”

Thanks to weeks of depressing news, my mind immediately went to a bleak place. But May isn’t bleak. Then my sister shared a video with me, and I knew it had to be the subject of my poem.

Close Encounter

One day you may find yourself
snorkeling in the clear blue 
South Pacific and a whale
may swim up and nudge
you back toward your boat.

A shark might be prowling
nearby, heading straight for you.
she might think you’d make
a nice lunch.

You could panic, or
you could realize the whale
is trying to save you.
He can carry you on his back,
can keep you safe from the shark
and deliver you to safety.

You ought to thank this whale,
Be grateful for his altruism.
You ought to do everything 
in your power to keep him
safe.

Watch the video of Nan Hauser describe her incredible experience:

Be sure to visit my fellow Inklings to read their May poems:

Heidi @my juicy little universe
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Mary Lee @Another Year of Reading

Then head over to Imagine the Possibilities, where Rose has the Poetry Friday Roundup.

The February Challenge came from Molly. She borrowed a challenge from Audrey Gidman and asked us to “Write a poem after Wendell Berry’s “Like Snow” — word for word. Here is my response:

“Like the Moon”
after Wendell Berry

What if we went about our days
like the moon, serenely, serenely
shining wonder and hope
into the world.

Draft © Catherine Flynn, 2026

Be sure to visit Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone for the Poetry Friday Roundup, and to see how she met her challenge. The stop by my fellow Inklings’ blogs to read what “Like Snow” inspired them to write.

Heidi Mordhorst @My Juicy Little Universe
Linda Mitchell @A Word Edgewise
Margaret Simon @ @Reflections on the Teche
Mary Lee Hahn @ Another Year of Reading

“And now we welcome the new year. Full of things that have never been.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Happy New Year, and welcome to the first Poetry Friday of 2026! (Find out more about Poetry Friday here.) I’m happy to be hosting everyone today and am looking forward to reading your poems. As it is also the first Friday of the month, it’s time for another Inklings challenge. This month, I proposed that we write poems after Mary Lee’s “December” poem. Here is my offering:

January

dawns like
a new skein of yarn:
a colorful coil
of possibilities.
Row after row,
the yarn unfurls
and kaleidoscopic
patterns emerge.

Maybe not what you expected.
Maybe you don’t even like it.

But then you step back, 
look from a different angle,
and behold the surprising beauty
unfolding before your eyes.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2026

Please leave your link below, then be sure to visit my fellow Inklings to find out how they’re welcoming the New Year.

Heidi Mordhorst @ My Juicy Little Universe
Linda Mitchell @ A Word Edgewise
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Mary Lee Hahn @ Another Year of Reading
Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone

Last week I was lucky enough to attend a taping of Krista Tippett‘s podcast On Being at Symphony Space in Manhattan. Krista’s guests were Joy Harjo and Tracy K. Smith, two of the most acclaimed poets of our time. The evening, billed as “a conversation,” was enlightening, thought-provoking, and inspiring. I tried to take notes on my phone, but quickly realized I couldn’t keep up with the brilliance shining from the stage. Still, I managed to capture a few nuggets of wisdom, which I have tried to distill into a poem. Fortunately, at some point in the near future, we will all be able to listen to this conversation and learn all the “beautiful things” these women have to teach us.

As we move through time,
year after year,
new layers of meaning
accumulate
like pages
In a manuscript–
each sheet containing
some small surprise
or contradiction
to all that came before.

Remember this:
Don’t be afraid.
Witness new wonders.
Feel with radical compassion.
Find a deeper
and more resonant
truth.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2025

Please be sure to visit Linda Mitchell at A Word Edgewise for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

This month, Linda prompted the Inkings to respond to Ethical ELA’s September Open Write by Kelsey Bigelow: “What is the happiest thing you’ve ever tasted?”

I thought long and hard about this prompt. My family is full of excellent cooks, and I love bake. I know what foods I adore, which recipes of mine that people love. But the happiest? I was stumped. Then, as often happens, this memory came to be in a dream.

Pinwheels

Before she crimped the edges of her pies, 
Grandma ran a knife around the rim 
of the pie plate,
trimming the extra crust.

Expertly, she rerolled the scraps,
cut them into triangles.
Then, like a snow flurry, 
soft and silent, 
she coated the waiting dough 
with cinnamon and sugar.

She scooped raisins out of a box,
scattered them over each one,
topped it all with a dollop of butter,
and rolled the pastry into crescents, 
sealing all that savory goodness inside.

Soon the air was filled with a heavenly
aroma, and I could hardly wait to
feast on those spirals of sweetness.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2025

Please visit my fellow Inklings to see what they’ve cooked up this month:

Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda Mitchell @ A Word Edgewise
Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Heidi Mordhorst @ my juicy little universe

Then stop by Laura Purdie Salas’s blog for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

The first month of school is in the books and it was a hectic one! Now that I’m back into that routine, maybe I can find a way back into a writing routine. Fingers crossed!

This month, Margaret challenged the Inklings to write a poem inspired by a photo shared by a fellow Inkling. I was lucky to receive three options from photographer extraordinaire, Molly Hogan. While all the images were intriguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about this one:

Here is my response:

In September,
dried filaments of
Queen Anne’s Lace
curl inward
like careworn hands
folded in prayer.

A dragonfly, maybe
a wandering glider,
lands on the boll
of seeds and stems
to rest,
reviving, reenergizing
for the journey ahead.

Draft © Catherine Flynn, 2025

Please be sure to visit the other Inklings for their responses to Margaret’s challenge:

Heidi @my juicy little universe
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Mary Lee @ Another Year of Reading
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone

Then head over the Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme where Matt has the Poetry Friday Roundup.

This month, Molly challenged the Inklings to “Write a love note to something or someone or some place. Go big or go small!” She gave us several suggestions to use as mentor poems and shared that her real motivation was to “look at the world through a lens of love.”

There are so many things in this world that I love: my family, trees, birds, books, knitting. The list is long (how lucky am I?) I even considered writing about the kitchen table! (I will come back to this idea soon.) In the end, though, time ran out and I found myself searching my notebook for anything that filled the bill. This poem, written last summer, isn’t exactly a love note, but I sure did love this bike.

A New Bike

I stumble off the bus into another summer 
confined to our dusty driveway 
on my rusty red bicycle.

Suddenly, I see a shiny new bike waiting. 
I scream with joy, drop everything and run.

“You’re old enough to ride on the road.”
Mom’s words echo as I hop onto the silver seat
and pedal away.

Smooth asphalt glides beneath me.
I’m a blur of sparkly green paint,
blending into the kaleidoscope of
summer leaves.

Streamers – a rainbow of red, yellow,
blue – fly out from the handlebars
like a flag, proclaiming my independence.

This bike and I are going places.

© Catherine Flynn, 2025

Margaret Simon has the Round Up today at Reflections on the Teche. After you read her love note to silence, visit my fellow Inklings to read their love notes.

Heidi @ My Juicy Little Universe
Linda @ A Word Edgewise
Molly @ Nix the Comfort Zone
(Mary Lee is on a brief hiatus)