1) All
1) morning
2) my mind
3) was filled with
5) Fibonacci beginnings: a one-word line,
8) a one-word line, a two- word line, a three.
13) Two poems showed up when I walked the little dog. Five during my
21) massage. Several while I was driving home, walking the Labrador. One of the poems was Fibonaccian in syllables rather than words.
34) It was good, but I forgot it. Syllables, I suspect, are more coherent with Fibonacci's philosophy-- they resonate so differently than words -- but the power lies with digging in with the more difficult method.
2 comments:
love this one, these are all so great, id like to see them in book form
That could happen some day. Right now I'm still really feeling my way through the writing. My daughter called today to tell me I'd miscounted a line and had ten words rather than eight. I was truly grateful. The more revisions I need, the more likely the line length will change; and I think the revision is the soul of writing. Or gives writing its soul. Thanks for your encouragement!
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