The charge this morning was to write a poem with very long lines. Long lines do not work well on blogs, since they tend to wrap around at inappropriate places thus changing the visual impact of the page. To minimize this impact, I wrote this poem in declining line lengths starting with a long line of iambic octameter and moving down to a single foot.
It is no easy task to go and find that spot to sit and ground,
A place that moves and lives and yet in time in stillness stops.
I find that place just down the hill where land meets sea,
Where surf, like drums, a rhythmic meter beats,
Where gulls suspend themselves in space.
It’s here I come to breathe,
A state of mind: