This year’s blood has frozen
and so has mine – no beat
in my heart and all heat
has escaped in clouds of breath

~ like wisps of winter mist ~

dreams are tattered cobwebs
streaming from the garden gate.
I watch them dissolve in a slant
of bloodless morning light.

Kim M. Russell, 8th December 2018

Image result for frozen cobwebs on a gate in misty winter morning light
Image found on Flickr Hive

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Fussy Little Forms: Puente

Marian is our host this weekend and she’s invited us to play with puente, a form created by James Rasmusson.

She explains that the word ‘puente’ means bridge in Spanish and this form features a bridge by having three stanzas: the first and third stanzas have an equal number of lines (which is up to the poet) and the middle stanza of one line is the bridge, which is enclosed in dashes or tildes. The middle bridge stanza serves as the last line for the first stanza and the first line for the last.

Marian has given a great example of one of her own, which she wrote when Kerry introduced the puente in 2011.

28 thoughts on “Bloodless

  1. I’m enchanted by the fact that your stanzas can be read independently as their own poems. Also, your capitalization is perfect–makes me a bit jealous. So much so, that one of these days I will go back to my own puente and make it work in this way. And the imagery, wow. I can see the chilly fog, darkening the blood, stealing the heat, wintering.

    Beyond yummy. I totally love your puente, too (yes, I giggled when I wrote that). 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Kim I too could love your Puente. I really do love your poem. Cobwebs and all. I don’t know if you tried writing both major stanzas in the same tense but that was too hard for me with the Puente so mine turned out then and now with an expectation, or a hope, of the future. I noted yours was “has”, then “are”.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Jim. My poem is all in the present tense: the first stanza describes how everything has frozen and stopped – the moment in time has stopped. In the second stanza, dreams dissolve in the morning light. No hope in this poem, I’m afraid.


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