In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are flowers, gloves, perpetual, and hinge.
If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are maze, parade, loom, and recognize.
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole poem)
Elegy for my Hydrangea Bush
I'm talking about the commitment of perennials:
daisies that break through frozen ground
and their sister weeds in an untended patch.
On Proofreading Your Sister's Med School Application
Picture the books
you might write and the books she will read, the accumulation
and divergence of knowledge, the scalpels, spirometers, ink.
Two Word Poems
We sat clenched
under the skeleton light
of a possessive moon.
Three Word Poems
She worried at the rusted hinge
where the handle met the wagon, neglected
the laughter of her children as they bumped
down each curb
My eyes trace the age spots on her face—
it's an anxious medley on show today.
Barbara De Franceschi
How is it I never noticed the hinge
between this moment and the next
At Night the Perfumes of the Angel Trumpets
A year after her death
her dearest flowers thrive
Steph Curry Is My Favorite Team
I do not have a child, and so who could this
be for but myself.
Anyone can find Grace—even the Devil can deliver it.
I Confide in Lady Macbeth about My Divorce
"Look like th' innocent flower," she advises,
"but be the serpent under't."