Day 26 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day 2017

In an interesting coincidence, 26 is the atomic number of iron, which intersects with my poem for today. But first the prompts. Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: "Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a 'World’s Best Grandpa' coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone." Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day prompt: "write a regret poem. Most people regret some action they’ve taken over the years, whether it’s saying the wrong thing, making the wrong choice, or putting off something for a tomorrow that never comes. Write about your own regrets, or the regrets of others (this is a great opportunity to write a persona poem)." Once again, Alan is first up today, first done. Interesting take on the prompts. Artifacts Preparing an old truck for trade-in, I found lodged in cushions a small toy a fast food restaurant had used for promotion. My kids were at their stage of changing; not one had unwrapped it from plastic. If I was unthinking or wanting to keep them small children, this wrapped toy reminds me how time moves through people who mark it in all their surroundings. Forgive my distraction, uncertain of how to dispose of an object remaining beyond us providing some meaning, contrasting all children we once were or have been. —Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] As usual, I'm merging both prompts, taking on Maureen's suggestion of an alien archaeologist — someone from the star we call TRAPPIST-1, to be precise, though that doesn't matter in the poem. Astro-Archaeologist’s Log We have deciphered the script of the planet’s inhabitants and learned they called their world “Earth.” Some huge catastrophe, a holocaust, as yet unknown, had evidently swirled across the entire planet, killing all fauna and flora. The ruling species may be found dead on the long paths that crisscross the land, sometimes with one brain, other times with none, sometimes with three or more brains, all sizes. These Earth creatures are metal-based, ferrous, like us. They move as we do on round disks. What I can’t grasp is how they are unlike us: their brains could exist outside their bodies, traveling — implausibly — on two long pods! I regret we found this planet too late. I would love to wheel with these beings on their roads. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] For those of you who are interested in poetic form, this poem uses four different kinds of quatrains — alternating, envelope, couplet, and monorhyme — admittedly slant-rhymed in a couple of places. I didn't set out to do that on purpose. I had started off writing a Shakespearean sonnet (though I "cheated" on the 2nd and 3rd quatrains) but found that the topic outgrew the 14-line space, needing just a couple more lines to bring in the notion of regret. But that gave me a little more room to clinch the irony of the poem and the archaeologist's understanding. Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. To comment, look for a red line below that starts Posted by, then click once on the word comments in that line. If you don’t find the word “comments” in that line, then look for a blue link below that says Post a comment and click it once. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

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