under the night sky I waver
as moonbeams penetrate my shroud
baring that fateful palaver
under the night sky I waver
wishing I had once been braver
but the die was cast as I bowed
under the night sky I waver
as moonbeams penetrate my shroud
Today, Reena asks us to consider: THE MASKS WE FORGOT TO REMOVE
Let your protagonist (fictional or real) explore the following aspects.
- Has it become too comfortable?
- Concealing an unpalatable truth
- Being haunted by their own disguise
- The silence after the revelry when real selves do not return
The RD Prompt (WAVER) seemed to fit into my thoughts as I played around with the idea of the consequences of decisions contrary to your true self. At least I think that may be what I was going for. It took its own course-as words sometimes do.
Plus, I’m clearly obsessed with the Triolet this week.
A Triolet is an 8-line poem where lines repeat in a beautiful rhythm:
Lines 1, 4, and 7 are the same, and lines 2 and 8 are also repeated.
The rhyme scheme looks like this: ABaAabAB (uppercase = repeated lines).
If you’d like to make it a little trickier, try writing each line with 8 syllables (iambic tetrameter, the classic French style) — or challenge yourself with 10 syllables per line (the English version). [I did 8-syllables today.]
Tina Stewart Brakebill 