Unnamed

This island was mine;
I lived alone with everything upon it,
unnamed but known to me.

Twanging music accompanied the lullaby
of voices on the wind and waves
when this island was mine.

Now I collect sticks for firewood
and share the bounty of my isle,
unnamed but known to me,

with no hope of unconditional love,
a gentle touch, a mate and progeny.
I wish this island was still mine.

But the cycle of the moon is rent apart
together with my hungry heart.
Unnamed, I knew that I was me.

I took comfort from the lullaby of twanging music
when I lived alone with everything upon this island.
Unnamed, I was still me.
Why did you take everything that was mine?

Kim M. Russell, 23rd April 2026

Caliban On A Branch, a ‘noir’ by Odilon Redon

It’s not only 23rd April, but also Shakespeare’s assumed birthday and the anniversary of his death. At NaPoWriMo, the optional prompt takes its inspiration from Kiki Petrosino’s loose villanelle, ‘Nursery. Our challenge is to write a villanelle and have the poem end on a question. I love Shakespeare and sonnets, so I took an old sonnet based on The Tempest, which I wrote back in April 2020, and reworked it as a loose villanelle.

3 thoughts on “Unnamed

  1. once we get used to that certain other someone in our lives, it will become, next to impossible to, live without the individual, because we’d become, dependent emotionally, and physically on the individual.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. There is always an element of wanting to disturb the tranquility when one finds it comfortable. One is not allowed to have it alone! Love it Kim. Ma’am!

    Hank

    Liked by 2 people

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