And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like the work in Translucence, reacts both to photography and to words in a language not your own. Begin with a photograph. Now find a poem in a language you don’t know (here’s a good place to look!) Ignore any accompanying English translation (maybe cover it up, or cut-and-paste the original into a new document). Now start translating the poem into English, with the idea that the poem is actually “about” your photograph. Use the look and feel of the words in the original to guide you along as you write, while trying to describe your photograph. It will be a bit of a balancing act, but hopefully it will lead to new and beautiful (and possibly very weird) places.
I apologize for the lack in all my letters, Spring tip-toed past my window so quickly. Is October thick with winter where you are? My mind wonders avenues toward you too often. Summer skies, air between us heavy of stars, myself barefoot on some random earth-walk. You know how love is, even when it's gone. You can't help but untangle how it all went wrong. How something so meant to be, so proper could accidentally unravel when you weren't watching, like a cashmere sweater on the eve of some gala event and so you're forced to change into a less-favorable color. Right now the winter has wedged itself between the leaf-less trees. And the cold emptiness, wherever it came from, is inescapable. I wonder if its winter where you've nested? Are your shoulders shaking of cold like mine are? The clouds here are the color of ice prisms, they carry whole invisible islands across their backs. The wind is strangely still and I'm wondering if this is how it ends: my heart rolling across the edge of tomorrow like an old stone. If we ever meet again I'll ask you about the anatomy of wild dandelion.