Sunday, I spent the entire day writing four rhyming poems. I wanted to get the lines short and the language and the rhymes dense. I kept thinking "chewy."
It was fun.
I felt that I needed those rhyming poems to serve as a bridge in my collection of (now 17!) prose poems, something to provide a little variety of form and format the way a bridge in a song provides an interlude.
But I'm using the bridge to separate something into two, not to bring two sections together. Hmmm...
As we hover on the cusp of a new year, a bridge seems like a good metaphor for many things not crossed yet, not burned yet, not worried over. (Although I do remember riding along in Costa Rica one lane over from a gaping hole in the bridge, with the river rushing far below.)
This year has been exhilerating and sometimes exhausting. I'm ready to bridge to a new one.
How about you? What are your bridges? And do you ever feel the need to just shake things up?