Happy Friday, everyone! The first Friday of the month brings us to another Inkling challenge. This month, Linda asked us to

Write a prose piece–find a poem in it.

• Or, write a poem, and expand it into a prose piece
• Or, find a prose piece, transform it into a poem
• Or, find a poem and transpose it into a prose piece
• Any interpretation of this prompt is perfect
• Going rogue is acceptable too
• If you end up writing longer than a page of prose, share just a snippet

After a month of searching for an idea, I decided to dig deep into my notebooks for my response to Linda’s challenge. On October 21, 2007, I wrote:

Inspired by an ad in The New York Times:

Last night, as I was sorting through a box of old photos, I found one of me and Mother in the garden one long ago Halloween night. I think I was eight or nine. A white sheet with two holes cut out (unevenly; or maybe it’s my head that’s lopsided) for eyes is draped over me. A plastic jack-o-lantern rests at my feet, ready to be filled with treats. Mother had made a slit on each side so I could carry my cache of candy.  I remember tripping on the extra inches of fabric pooling around my feet as we paraded around the neighborhood. 

What’s really striking about this photo, though, is Mother. Someone who didn’t know her might think she was in costume, too. But her ensemble is classic Mother. Her black patent leather Mary Janes is outshone only by the perfectly poised handbag resting in the crook of her elbow. She’s wearing bright orange tights and a brown mohair coat, adorned with a doll as a corsage. Her hands are sheathed in tiger-striped gloves. 

How I adored her. She was the coolest mother by far, but my friends’ mothers snubbed her. “We make our own fun,” she always said to me. And we always did. And she was always the snazziest dresser, even in the nursing home. On our last Halloween together, she wore a leopard print turban with a bright orange caftan that outshone the moon. 

Here is the photo:

And here is the poem:

Parading around the neighborhood
one long ago Halloween night,
Mother and I turned heads.
Me, a lopsided ghost,
trying not to trip on
the voluminous
white sheet, barely
able to see through
two lopsided eyes,
carrying a plastic
pumpkin filled 
with treats. 

She, a general, standing
tall in orange tights
and shiny Mary Janes
leading her troop. 
No flashlight for us.
She was a beacon.
I would have followed
her to the moon.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit my fellow Inklings to see how they responded to Linda’s challenge:

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

Don’t forget to visit Buffy Silverman for the Poetry Friday Roundup!

September Garden

The magenta petals of cosmos
surround a circle 
of starry stamens
like an Elizabethan ruff
of pleated silk.
They are a beacon 
to bees and butterflies,
now in a delirious frenzy
to gather every particle of pollen
before the petals drop
and summer’s bounty
fades into memory.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at The Poem Farm for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

My stepfather passed away last week after a long illness. While not unexpected, his death turned our world upside down. The first Friday of the month is when we Inklings post our monthly challenge responses, but I know you’ll understand why I’m posting my effort on the second Friday. Our July challenge came from Heidi.

SUDOKU POEM! YES!  Make yourself a grid at least 4×4. Reread Mary Lee’s sudoku poem post from June 1 for information and inspiration and create your own sudoku poem.

This this challenge stumped me for several weeks. Then I just dove in and began having fun with it. I’ve tinkered with this quite a bit, and I’m still not sure I’ve got it right. But here’s what I came up with.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

You can read my fellow Inkling’s responses here:

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

Today I’m happy to help the week’s Poetry Friday hostess, dear Irene Latham, celebrate the moon in honor of her upcoming book, The Museum on the Moon. I have very clear memories of the Apollo missions and have been fascinated by the ever since.

The Moon

Mysterious shape-shifter,
perpetually circling
overhead
swayer of oceans,
guardian of dreams.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

I loved the A.P. Biology class I took in high school. Believe it or not, I remember much of what I learned all those years ago. So when I was planning this project, I didn’t have to think twice about the word I would use for x. Xylem was right there, just waiting to be celebrated in a poem. Fast forward to this week of testing, planning for next year, and caring for my family and you have…a very brief poem acknowledging the hard work xylem does.

X is for Hope

Why?

Because…

Water + xylem + sunlight =

GREEN

Vibrant or muted,
bursting from stems supported
by strong, thirsty straws

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Thank you to Laura Purdie Salas for her brilliant book, Snowman – Cold = Puddle, for the inspiration! Please be sure to visit Janice Scully at Salt City Verse for the Poetry Friday Roundup!