Footfalls echo in the memory
down the passage we did not take;
instead we took the avenue of apathy,
moonful children exploring half-hearted
graveyards with lichen-covered stones
over row upon row of mouldering bones.
What was at the end of the passage,
the one we did not take? A message
of hope, a future of happiness,
a place without doubt,
or was it just a pathless path
where the track gives out?
Kim M. Russell, 10th May 2018
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Bridging the Gap
Amaya is our host for Meeting the Bar this week, asking us to ‘bridge the gap’ She asks if we have ever seen or participated in those challenges that ask us to grab the second to top book on our nightstands, turn to page 111 and copy the fifth sentence of the third paragraph. Amaya says the likes to look at the spaces formed by the random sentences, like abstract art, and see if she could connect them somehow or just treat herself to a little brain candy.
Which is why she asks us to don our hard hats and build bridges by selecting two quotes from two different books (poetry, prose, technical, non-fiction, anything) and then construct poems using one quote as the opening line and the other as the closing line. She says the blood, sweat, and tears will come while filling in the space between. We may modify the quotes to fit our poems’ rhythm or rhyme schemes, but we must be sure to provide the original quotes, authors, and works in a postscript.
I picked up a book of poetry by T.S. Eliot and took the first quote from ‘Burnt Norton’:
“Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.”
The next book that caught my eye was David Lodge’s, The Art of Fiction. I flicked to the end and found this:
‘Aporia is a Greek word meaning “difficulty, being at a loss”, literally, “a pathless path”, a track that gives out.’