
Hello again! I can’t believe that there are only two more days of this year’s NaPoWriMo. I’m sad to say the least. Today’s prompt was to write a concrete poem. Like acrostic poems, concrete poems are a favorite for grade-school writing assignments, so this may not be a first time at the concrete-poem rodeo.
In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem. For example, May Swenson’s poem “Women” mimics curves, reinforcing the poem’s references to motion, rocking horses, and even the shape of a woman’s body. George Starbuck’s “Sonnet in the Shape of a Potted Christmas Tree” is – you guessed it – a sonnet in the shape of a potted Christmas tree.
So, my concrete poem proved difficult to post without the shape shifting when previewed via mobile phone or desktop. What you will find is that I have posted an image of my poem for those reading from mobile apps and a regular copy for those reading from a laptop or desktop. Either way you are reading it, I hope you will be able to detect my “tree” form.
Happy reading!

My Trees
My childhood
memories
are full of
trees like the
giant willow
who grew
in the middle
of the little grove
of trees hidden
behind the new
condo development
It was there that
I dreamed of spending
my adult life
chain-smoking
cigarettes and
clacking the keys of
my old typewriter
as I cranked out
my next best-selling
novel. Then there was
the colossal oak on the
playground--the one whose
ground roots held me like a
comforting mother as I watched
the other children run and play
together from a disassociated
distance. The oak was my friend—
my best friend—and I loved her.
In later years, there was the young
sapling who gave its life to save mine.
It happened when the canoe tipped over,
I slipped quietly into the swirling river, and
I thought I was dead at sixteen--until I spotted
my father uprooting a small sapling from the bank.
He held the tree across the river and told me to grab on;
It was then I knew I was safe in the strength of the tree and
my father. Safe in my childhood memories safe in the arms of trees.
--cjpjordan