Remember that first kiss? Write about it. Here’s a free-verse poem by Jack Bedell who is a professor of English and Coordinator of Creative Writing at Southeastern Louisiana University where he edits Louisiana Literature, one of the best journals in the South.
I cannot keep my daughter’s mind
off baby frogs. My father caught one
for her the other day and put it
in the hollow of her palm. She fell
for its smooth green skin and shiny eyes,
loved how it held her fingertips
in its tiny hands. Now she’s a huntress.
As soon as the coffee pot goes off
in the morning, she’s dressed
and staring out the back door glass,
waits on point until I release the bolt,
setting her to motion. There’s no
distracting her with linguistics, the difference
between crapaud and ouaouaron. She wants
to turn over every pot, pull back
the cover on the barbecue pit,
check each slat in the storm shutters.
She knows no crack is too small
for these frogs. They can flatten themselves
and get under anything. They fold their bones
and wait for her, each one a prince.
And for a further challenge, write a poem of three stanzas, each one with seven lines.The above poem was published in Thirty-Three, by Negative Capability Press.