poetry stairs

Poem-a-day Week 3

Had some struggles this week. No prompts were speaking to me. Not a whole lot of breathing room, let alone poem-writing room in a day. Quite a few responsibilities came to bear their full weight. It wasn’t easy, but I got it done and I’m now moving on the Week 3 looking at that light at the end of the tunnel and running for it with my arms up high and a big-ass grin on my face. It’s not too late to join me in writing a poem-a-day this April.

Here are some places you can get prompts:

Writer’s Digest

Kelli Russell Agodon


Day 15

Staff Yoga Class with Sam

I invited the entire staff

FREE yoga, I cried!

Once my student, now my peer,

you arrived ready to teach.

Though it was time,

no one arrived,

so we sat on our mats

face to face, chatting. We were both

nervous–me, because as my idea

I’d imagined it grand and well-attended.

We would both teach–you one class,

me another. Teachers would set down their ungraded papers,

flock to staff yoga. We were both nervous–

You, because this was your day to teach,

and teaching is still new to you.

There was a moment before someone finally arrived

when I saw our selves like mirrors, each reflecting back to the other.

I saw your earnest smile, the joy behind your eyes.

In that moment, nervousness fled, and I felt

quite suddenly so happy to be so vulnerable and there.

Day 16

“Suffering maims” –Victor Pelerin

About suffering they were never wrong, he wrote.

The human condition.

And yet–no mud, no lotus–

it is true.

When I consider the spectrum of suffering,

I feel deeply grateful that I’ve

endured just enough to have deep roots in the soil,

a tough outer bark,

adornments (leaves) that thrive

and shimmer in the breeze.

Day 17

Prompt: Write a haiku


Raindrops collect

on the cups of leaves–reserve.

Intelligent nature.

Day 18

Prompt: Write a love poem

It’s easy to lie,

say you’ve entered a new phase–

a more settled, mature phase

no longer achingly desperate,

no longer prioritizing desire over

risk of exposure or embarassment.

It’s easy to lie here,

reading our books in silence,

say this is all I need,

this isn’t boredom

or a failure of communication–

it’s just this age, this phase–

which is sometimes true,

but not always

and it isn’t always easy

to find the language at those times–I need

a codeword. Fire!, perhaps. Or–


Day 19


A bit of an acquired taste, I suppose.

Small children tend to hate it.

Perhaps the tongue gets bored,

begins to want something shocking,


Fierce and bright.

Something with equal parts

danger and delight.

Day 20


We call you bullet.

Fast like a bullet,

but with bounce and grace.

You’re slower these days,

not so bad for an old lady though. Old lady,

who loves

napping in sunbeams

hiding under blankets

walks that happen on time

not stepping out into the rain

silence, kisses, and carpets.

Day 21

Prompt: Write a poem using these six words: bow, lean, park, saw, tear, wound

In upward-bow, I lean,

rock like a saw,

then park on my belly.

Sometimes through a tear in my armor,

a wound escapes and breathes with me a while–

heart open–fearce–about to break,

I heal.

Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals?  Find free resources and information here.

Some past posts to keep you making time: 

Adjust your pace accordingly.

It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine

There are things you will have to give up

See it to achieve it

Washing the dishes

Write slowly

A celebration of the pause

Monday, a run through the driving rain

Zen accident

Get out of your comfort zone