“The clear vowels rise like balloons.” Sylvia Plath
Deeper are the diphthongs
Neither the o or the u can rise
In their own sound
dVerse prompt taking the end of a poem (in this case Plath’s last line of her poem Morning Song) and using it to make a beginning. My mind went to diphthongs and how the vowels no longer make their own sound. Sylvia Plath was such a great writer but so bound. This poem makes me want to cry.
In the way
So many ways
Find the ways
Make a way
This is a poem about finding your way
when you see it you will know it
It is right here today
dVerse quadrille concerning the word “way”
Repetition is fun.
I am having a macaronic day
Portuguese becomes like Espanhol
French is muy bien
My Latin has a comeback
Mater madre mae mother mama
Bebe fala Português—- mae
I am the baby
Speaking lost languages
Speaking languages that are living
dVerse prompt on connecting— since the start of the pandemic, I have been learning languages.
Vivir is live in Portuguese.