Playing with Poems

I found this on a scrap of paper, probably written during a meeting. I tend to do that when the talk goes off on topics not related to my part of the operation. This must have been a form of poetry I was trying out, but I can't remember what it was. Perhaps you know?

Circles

Crows circle clouds hovering
still wings black
on azure
canvas
azure on
black wings still
hovering clouds circle crows

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This one was written in response to a prompt from an online writing group:



Hanging on a Memory, an Apron

Ruffles, pink and white
around the edges of fabric worn
with hands rubbed clean
and pockets

for handkerchiefs
and bits of things
like one sprig of lavender
tattered

from crushing fingers
that released the scent
of you, my cushion-soft
English granny



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This is another prompt response: a poem in the form called "yenga"--a poem with nine stanzas with a theme of childhood innocence. The pattern of stanzas/lines is: 3-3-3 2-2-2 3-3-3



I'm not sure I hit the theme exactly, since we were guilty as sin, and yet only a child would think their mother would not notice a missing sugar bowl. So perhaps that's innocent enough.



Sugar Time



Under the porch
a sugar bowl a spoon
and my sister

The sugar we shared
the danger of being caught
the sweetness


Sisters, blond and auburn
huddled in darkness
latticed light checkering


Faces freckled
mouths syrupy-sticky


In the spoon dipped
glittering white


Crunchy like sand
on summer beaches


Instead of the dirt
stained on skirts
red with guilt


Written on our faces
when our mother called
out, knowing


Who had her sugar bowl
and apostle spoon
when it was time for tea