Through 4 prompts -- For the Slam |
----------------------------------------------------- Prompts Interior object: a notebook Exterior sight: fruit dropping under the Tangelo tree Broadcast media: A song “Love can move mountains” Print media: A newspaper article ----------------------------------------------------- We have countless things to talk about but walls, things, miles get in the way. So two years ago, I started this “Mead--Five-Star Composition-Book” and wrote on the first page, “Letters to my Son,” now half-full. The wind sneaking in from the open window is taking its dark teal cover to a slow-dance, in step with the sappy song on the radio: “There ain’t a dream that don’t have the chance To come true now It just takes a little faith, baby.” More than a dreamer, a young man away from home, you are after fairy tale tracks in the jungle; to avoid disgust --both yours and mine-- I try not to become my mother. Instead, I prop you up and squint with locked-in instinct or pride at the newspaper article you sent from Washington D.C. “Light on the Debate Trail” carrying your byline, a rehearsal or the start of true passage. Suddenly, a thud in the backyard... I notice that the wind has dropped a plumb fruit precisely under the tangelo tree. A motion, a tune, this perfect time shift unveil a rhythm of things only the heart knows. Thus, hoisted by your phrases, I go from feelings to writing. |