National Poetry Writing Month: Day #23 (April 23, 2014)

Today’s prompt is from Kelli Russell Agodon’s list:

Write a poem where the last word of the first line begins with the first letter of your name, and the last word of the second line begins with the second letter of your name [—] until you have spelled out your first name and/or last name.

The conversation left my stomach in knots
as I recognized the ways in which I had yet to evolve
Weak, small, and dry was my voice
We failed to reach little more than an impasse
with no map for further navigation

The gifts of love spoiled by jealousy
subjects talked not about but around
a widening chasm of our own making
an episode stretched out with no clear end
as for less and less we seemed to settle 

Of course, there’s no way to do it over
no way to shift course back to the center
Not that this chance was the one and only
though there is a fine line between now
and never 

On which ground now can we possibly engage
with past mistakes impossible to repair?

(23 April 2014)