MINE
by April Halprin Wayland
Here in the piano room,
I purr on a lap.
This is my lap,
no one else’s lap,
mine.
So even that large chasing dog
who has recently taken over this house
cannot have this lap
because, as I have said, it is
mine.
My chin rests on her arm.
Her arm rises and falls
as she types on her laptop.
Her laptop sits on top of her lap
which, as I’ve stated above, is
mine.
Poetry Prompt: View point!
Sometimes when I can’t think of how to approach a poem, I stand on my head and try to see it from other points of view. If you write about music from the pianist’s view point or the piano’s or one finger’s or a note’s or a cat’s or the floorboards’ or a child’s, listening in bed…each would be a different poem.
It’s your turn. Brainstorm, scribbling down every image floating around your brain. After five minutes, circle one of the phrases or words you’ve scribbled, one that intrigues you. Write a straightforward narrative poem about it. Now, look at the same word or phrase from a different point of view and write that poem.