This poem was written in response to Margo’s Tuesday Tryout. In a nutshell, here is Margo’s prompt:
Grab your newspapers, magazines if you have them, and scissors. When I do this exercise, I like to clip out the headlines until I have a pile to work with.
I clipped headlines from two of my favorite magazines: Equus and Saveur …and I ended up with a poem that has nothing to do with horses or food. Go figure.
The way he said my name
scorched my heart.
I was nuts about him.
My Southern charmer, my secret admirer,
who gave me love with the works.
It was dreamy good
until the winter of discontent.
He began standing on ceremony.
There were sudden personality changes.
He left me alone,
standing outside the crowd looking
down the crossroads, wondering
about motivation and his strange habits.
About why he threw ice
on the ashes of my scorched heart.