Last Saturday I traveled to visit my sweet granddaughters. A thick grayness followed me throughout the trip. Upon returning to Long Island, I was surprised by the same gray tones hovering over the Verrazano Bridge.
A drizzling rain left dampness in the air. As our car approached the bridge, an intense desire to capture the sight of the harbor shrouded in mist came upon me. I decided to explain the sighting through a definito poem introduced by my poet friend, Heidi Mordhorst. Heidi explains her definito as a "free verse poem of 8-12 lines (aimed at readers 8-12 years old) that highlights word play as it demonstrates the meaning of a less common word, which always ends the poem".
The photo below set the stage for my mind to wander in thought. I modified the word play fun to reach an older group of students. I also added my definito word in a phrase at the end of the poem.
A drizzling rain left dampness in the air. As our car approached the bridge, an intense desire to capture the sight of the harbor shrouded in mist came upon me. I decided to explain the sighting through a definito poem introduced by my poet friend, Heidi Mordhorst. Heidi explains her definito as a "free verse poem of 8-12 lines (aimed at readers 8-12 years old) that highlights word play as it demonstrates the meaning of a less common word, which always ends the poem".
The photo below set the stage for my mind to wander in thought. I modified the word play fun to reach an older group of students. I also added my definito word in a phrase at the end of the poem.
A misty chill of winter hovers
over an indistinct shoreline.
Nature wraps itself around
a February morning,
sharing only a fraction of light
within a hazy, hanging fog.
A groggy world passes by,
blurred by discontent as
a single ship glows like a beacon
in the brumous haze.
©CV, 2020
Today is when the Poetry Friday writing community gathers for its roundup. The fabulous poet/author and friend, Laurie Purdie Salas, is this week's host. Join me at her site to read about her new venture.
*I hosted Spiritual Journey Thursday yesterday. A few of my Poetry Friday friends joined me in writing about seasonal bliss. You can access the post here. If you would like to share your thoughts, please follow the link up. The site is open all weekend.
Brumous! a new word for me, Carol. "Sharing only a fraction of light" a line that describes your wintry morning as well as our current state of affairs. Here's to being a beacon in the haze!
ReplyDeleteI love that "hazy, hanging fog!" Beautiful, Carol!
ReplyDeleteLaura, It has been a hectic week and I have not been able to make my PF rounds like I usually do. Thank you for hosting and commenting on my post. While a hazy, hanging fog has not been seen again by me, we certainly have an abundance of cold, rainy weather. There is a positive side: I get to cozy up to winter.
DeleteI know the word 'brumous' becaues I know the Spanish 'bruma' which means mist, a beautiful ending, Carol. We so rarely have any kind of fog here, too dry, but I remember what it's like from Missouri living, pretty & a bit scary. I'm glad you shared & wrote!
ReplyDeleteBrumous is a new word to me, too! Your poem captures that misty, eerie view. We've had quite a bit of fog this winter. I'm often surprised by what looms up unexpectedly.
ReplyDeleteBrumous!! Sounds scrumptious! And I love that nature wraps itself around a February morning. Delightful snapshot in verse.
ReplyDeleteBrumous! What a great, new-to-me word. Your definito defined it for me beautifully, Carol.
ReplyDeleteLove the misty chill. I had to look up brumous too--thanks for teaching me a new word!
ReplyDeleteooooh! brumous...what a wonderful, rich word to add to haze. I like the surprise of it at the end.
ReplyDelete