A Mask Poem
Write a mask poem; a poem written from the point of view of an object — or something NOT YOU —
This was THE NEVERMORES poetry prompt for the week.
What I love about our poetry group, THE NEVERMORES, is the not-knowing, from week to week, what we will be asked to write.
Last week, I had provided a whimsical photograph of what I called airport art: a stack of suitcases, seemingly left forever in the Lost and Found. I challenged my poetry partners to write an ekphrastic poem. What was happening in this picture?
Suitcases came to life. Back stories were spun. This is poetry at its most delightful. So this week, Rose challenged us to write mask poems.
I used my morning hikes to listen to the voices of the trees, the birds, the baby bats (that were born yesterday in my downspout!), the pine cones indignantly dropped to the forest floor, and the creek, that runs from mountain top to lake.
Yes. I would listen to what the water wanted to tell me about its ongoing journey.
Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies}
is hosting the round up this week, spotlighting a fun poetic form: a BOP! And celebrating her forthcoming book FIGURE IT OUT, HENRI WELDON! And, if you’d like to know more about Poetry Friday, click here!
I, Vapor
While you sleep
breathe
eat
dream
cool air swirls and I do-si-do
above the trees
I grow
transformed
from vapor to dew
or rain
this day I land
gentle on granite,
puddled and pooled,
like a child waiting to hear their name
I slow-roll over
the edge
I tickle the lips of boulders
I tease the dusty trail
I tempt the fern,
the huckleberry,
the young pine
as I pass
I dash down the hillside
unseen beneath duff
hide shyly,
softening,
greening
the forest floor
I meet others on my way
babble about our yesterdays
rush toward our tomorrows
till we fall
spill
slide together
to rest
I, vapor, become
one lovely lake
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
A beauty, Patricia, every action, and that ending, a wonder. We need that ‘vapor’ so much in many areas of the world. It’s lovely that you highlighted it.
Thank you for your kind words, Linda. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Patricia, this poem is like a saga. I could see it going on a continuous journey. It is a creative way of writing. These lines resonate with me:
I meet others on my way
babble about our yesterdays
rush toward our tomorrows
till we fall
spill
slide together
to rest
I received your swap and am grateful for our partnership. You should get the snail mail version shortly. I have a digital slide show of many of the component parts that I will send you.
So happy you saw the “journey” in this poem, Carol. And I’ll look forward to our swap.
“Babble about our yesterdays/rush toward our tomorrows…” LOVELY. Absolutely lovely, and so beautifully tied together with photograph and lyrical words. I LONG to go to the woods now, and paddle in the creek. You lucky duck that this is your morning hike!!!
I am ever-grateful for the beauty of my mornings in the mountains. Thank you, Tanita, and thank you for hosting this week.
Beautiful transformation of the “Vapor” into “lake,” and I like your lines weaving in and out and down as they carry us through the poem–lovely images too, thanks! And congrats on your poem for the Pomelo Anthology!
Thank you, Michelle. I’m so excited to be part of another anthology!
Love this! Can’t wait to read all of our mask poems. I need to write mine! I’m late again! What a week.
Your footbridge was beautiful, Marcie. These were fun ones to both write and to read.
So peaceful and calming. I find myself getting lost in this poem when I read it. Thanks for sharing, Patricia.
Thank you, Rose. It was a great prompt.
Such friendly vapor. I would totally love walking with this vapor and then rain. A wonderful mask poem! Love that word, “duff.” And, the waterfall formatting is spot on.
Thank you, Linda. The formatting came after I found my photo.
Ahh…this is a sigh of a poem in both the language you’ve used and the shape on the page. Lovely!
And please — SAY MORE about baby bats born in a downspout!!!
Thank you, Mary Lee. As to the baby bats… stay tuned! I’m really hoping they wing away while we’re visiting our grandson!
This is lovely, Patricia, and the art is wonderful, too. I was happily reminded of a poem I just read by W.S. Merwin, “Still Water.” The first line is “Clouds over the mountaintops were its ancestors[.]” It’s in his book “Garden Time.”
Thank you, Susan. I’m going to go look up Merwin now. Thanks for the reference.
Oh, this is so lovely, Patricia. The vapor’s whimsical, mischievous but also calming, inviting, so friendly and relatable. Love!
Thank you, Karen. I love that you heard whimsy in Vapor’s voice! It tells me I captured it authentically.
Beautiful! I love the physical moment of the poem.
Thank you, Jessica. Truthfully, the movement was an afterthought, but it did give the poem a much more lively feeling!