And now, for our (optional) prompt. In his poem “The Waste Land,” T.S. Eliot famously declared that “April is the cruelest month.” But is it? I’d have thought February. Today I challenge you to write a poem in which you explore what you think is the cruelest month, and why. Perhaps it’s September, because kids have to go back to school. Or January, because the holidays are over and now you’re up to your neck in snow. Or maybe it’s a month most people wouldn’t think of (like April), but which you think of because of something that’s happened in your life. Happy (or, if not happy, not-too-cruel) writing!
Please see NaPoWriMo for more information.
November, the month cruelest,
All my energy siphoned out.
Sun down 5:00 pm lest,
We let daylight openly flout,
On top of depression for jest,
I’m sure, to have winter blues pout,
I’m wishing for light to shine bright when,
Winter with snow and blizzard send.
In November tiredness dogs me,
Worse, then other times of the year,
I plee for light so I’ll serene be,
But I’m sent into fog dreary,
Difficult doing what you need.
Each year, a darkened mood I fear.
Beauty shadowed, with winter’s snow,
Winter arriving; sad mood blows.
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.