It’s just the first third of the sestina. I pooped out and watched Chinatown with Jon this evening instead of finishing the poem.
It’s all one big pool.
One fountain, one single source.
Only take what’s yours for today.
Connect yourself to Earth and Sky and spread your wings.
Listen through the words, for the word that gets overlooked;
that one word could hold the whole story.
You are the Teller of your own story.
Don’t be afraid to dive into the pool,
but remember not to leap before you’ve looked
and swim against the current, to your source
where you will rise from the waters, find your wings
and fly into the dawning of the day.
Prompt for Saturday
. . .is to finish the sestina, of course. I’m making my own rules this month, and so I’ll give myself two days for the sestina. Seems reasonable to me!
Gratitude List:
1. Quetzal and Panther
2. Finding the wings
3. Smoked Sea Salt
4. Motherhood–learning to hold on, learning to let go
5. Water
May we walk in beauty.
Mockingbird Chronicles 
Footwear and frazzled were my biggest challenges in writing this. I also found–like you did– that footwear was the most grounded and important element of the poem. Hence the title. I really, really wanted to just say shoes at times while I was writing it.
One thing I find about the sestina is that I have to simply let it carry me along. It will, if I get out of my own way.
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Excellent! I think I might have to try using the random word generator for that nonsense villanelle that I promised myself I would write some day. I love this one. Somehow footwear takes on such import, in the middle of its whimsical duties.
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For this poem, I gathered six ending words from the random word generator and used them in a sestina. They were an odd assortment of words. It’s an odd sestina. But a great way to play with the form, and I suspect they helped me find things to say I would not have been able to say otherwise.
I once wrote one of these for my sister for her birthday, asking her for six random words and constructing it as a narrative, which was an interesting exercise too. I believe she included the word “mullet.” 🙂 I may make a point from now on of using other people’s ending words—or randomly generated words— for sestinas.
Finding my Shoes
The night slides closer to daytime
but there is less light supplying
sight to this mind-boat, capsizing
over and over until I’m frazzled
by the lack and can’t even find footwear
that will suit the ice and mud eroding
the path past the stairs. My own erodability
is more suited to the day this time,
falling apart is easier with the right footwear
and you can see how the mud supplies
predictable unsteadiness. My frazzled,
fallible thoughts keep me capsized
even as I realize that the capsizing
is only what I notice, the erosion
rather than the muddy stream frazzled
by all that is added during daytime’s
abundant runoff. The shedding layers supply
some solace, even when my footwear’s
not sufficient and my footwork’s
not quite quick enough. I keep capsizing.
I keep my versions of self supplied
with story and my inherent erodability
always in mind—this is only a day, only time,
perhaps not what I’d imagined in my frazzled
state of grace but the frazzling
helps to keep me finding feet to wear.
By some miracle, there’s time. I get to day
from night with cautious dreams capsizing
as I wake, and their erodability,
eventually, keeps supplying
me with all of the supplies
that I might need. I may be frazzled
but my intention modulates my erodability
enough to see past my feet to my footwear,
enough to gather my mind that has capsized,
enough to make it to daytime.
I show up, supplied with footwear,
frazzled but forgiving. If this life capsizes,
I choose another, eroding topsoil into daytime.
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