twilight's beacon

[redbird]

Elise's haiku challenge was a poetry game: she put out pairs of earrings, and if you liked a pair, you could ask their name. From that, we created haiku: either with those words, or something close to them, as part of the poem, or something related to them. Enough structure to be interesting and useful, and nobody had to play.

The pair I'm wearing today are named "Twilight Beacon." Beads of blue glass and carved water-buffalo bone.

I'm still fiddling with the haiku, trying to get it right. Having a quiet half hour in the Green Room--the other two people there were sitting and writing--I also wrote a prose poem on the theme. With two words and a pair of earrings, an overly difficult trip to Wiscon became something else, a piece of the voyage home, and the color of the sky.

Elise and I handed a piece of paper back and forth, editing as we went, with occasional comments like "I know you love that word"; "no, I love the two around it" and "how about a comma here?" while Mike and Lise talked theatre at the same dinner table.

There are a lot of reasons I love Wiscon--this is a new one, or a new cluster of them.

Here's one version, pulled together this morning because I left all the papers at home:

Past alien fields

Home at last. Lightning flashes

a twilight beacon.

[The date and time above are Sunday evening of Wiscon.]