I like this poem very much.

As for the prompt/picture, here are my two cents worth, so to speak:

When it involves poetry, or in fact any act of creation, there is no such thing as living in the past. I know this very well, as I have witnessed the search for novelty in art result ultimately in mere unintelligibility; the unconscious backlash from which results not so much in living in the past, but to some artists, choosing to master, or even refine older forms, and some to chose newer forms or invent such forms. Materials and subjects may always change. Therefore all new art is new, regardless of whether it is in an older style or a newer.

There is one poetry critic, whose name I will not mention here, that suggests that all subjects have been dealt with in poetry. But that is a ridiculous notion as well. I may well have read, for example, all the love poetry throughout the centuries and found nothing that made sense or “resonated,” so to speak, with what I feel, and think. Then, perhaps, in the year 2020, I happen to read some poetry that our dear Latoya has written on the subject and I might say or think: “Yes! That’s it exactly! That’s the way it really is for me!” That is newness.

And what if our Latoya has decided, for what ever reason, to master some older forms in 2015, and perhaps writes these poems in 2020 in the style of Greek Odes, simply because she likes the sound of them now that she has come to appreciate such a sound. So, am I then reacting to something old or something new? Obviously it is new, because all new poetry–new art–is new. In fact when I encounter a 500 year old poem in 2020 for the first time, it may strike me the same way. This poem is new to me.

In any event, I loved this poem and am going to reblog it–am reblogging it even as I sit here writing this in the bitter watches of the night. This has the sound when I read it aloud of loose couplet rhymes, and the line breaks punctuate it nicely. Lovely. I hope you will keep writing.