The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 7 asked me to chose between two forms of poetry I hadn’t played with yet: the shadorma or the fib. As I am a math teacher and a sucker for marrying math and poetry (as I did here and here), I chose to write a fib, which numbers its syllables according to the Fibonacci sequence- 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8… And then, because I always have too much to say, I kept running with the sequence (…13, 21), then reversed it. I also enjoyed incorporating the other definition of fib.
Call to Uprising
Hush, dove. No tears. You mustn't unmask your sorrow in this world of spun glass smiles. Don't leave a trail- drops of sorrow for them to harvest. How many can tuck 'neath your ribs, nudge back down your throat without overflow? Not. one. more. Drops of sorrow leave crystalline trails none can harvest. In this world of spun glass smiles, unmask your sorrow. You mustn't Waste tears. Don't hush.