Exiting Nests: A Triversen

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Outside our window, a robin scolds its young,
Raising a racket, while our children plummet into real people
Peeling away from us, like bark cracking from trees.

Staccato scolding becomes a morning refrain—
Tempering the separation,
That tightens our chests.

The robin gathers worms for its young,
Regurgitating from its beak
Pink strings of sustenance.

In contrast to the robin’s morning meals,
We spare our children, and let loose the latch
That binds them to the soul of us.

Cold drafts spiral through our window
Striking a strident pace of threaded current
That traces trails toward our children’s goodbyes.

Later, our pain blends with the robin’s
When a fledgling falters, falling from the sky
right into the gaping maw of a feral feline.

My staccato call quiets the mother
as I mimic its morning scoldings
and surprise it with echoes of its cry.

Brenda Warren 2012

Gay at dVerse Poets’ Pub introduced the Triversen form this week. Click on the link to read more about the form. I wrote one Triversen for the pub on Thursday, but I wasn’t done with the form yet, so I used it to put the wordle word’s to play. Be sure to visit The Sunday Whirl for other pieces that incorporate these words.

48 thoughts on “Exiting Nests: A Triversen”

  2. Brenda, I read the prompt on the form and, as usual, said… well, the air turned blue! You know I’m not a fan of forms, and I will tell you that this did not feel in any way forced or crammed into a preconceived round hole. It simply breathed, which is what good poetry does. I hope everyone who visits my blog sees this, as I posted your praises! Love, Amy

    TWO Wordles: Recruited and Day 38

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  4. Brenda, beautiful and amazing. I love “our children plummet into real people” and “tempering the separation”. And that last stanza, such a wonderful ending.

    And you have made me curious about that form.

    Richard

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    • You should read the article I linked up to, Richard. The form itself helped me create this. The other piece I did for the form is simply called Triversen. I like it even better than this one…i think it’s a couple pieces ahead of this if you want to check it out on my home page.

      Thanks for visiting, Richard. I really do think you could do something with this form!

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  5. This is so very beautiful and sad. We must encourage our darlings to leave the nest, but the dangers of life in the big world, and the change it brings to our lives, is all a lot to adjust to. I love your comparison with the robin and I love the flow of this poem. I would never have guessed it is a form poem, one I have never heard of, or happened on.

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  6. Beautiful. Without reading the ins-and-outs of the form and not knowing what it entails, I will tell you that your poem did not feel like a form…which is what I often think when I read form poetry. I feel the constraints. However, this was natural in its flow and, in spite of a wordle, in its words. Well done on both fronts.

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  7. I like this very much and am impressed you were able to follow the form described at d’Verse. It left me baffled! You English teachers must have more advanced understanding of poetry forms! LOL It’s back to free verse for me!

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  9. Observing parents with their young is a fascinating dance of holding on and letting go. You capture the human and avian characteristics and blend them together beautifully. You layer that with a form and have created a perfect poem that all mothers recognize.

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  10. Brenda, not only have you nailed the form, but the poem is both lovely and accessible. I’ll have to try my hand at the triversen. I’m loving the Wordles, and you set a great example for us. Thanks!

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  11. Excellent Brenda. When I finished reading, I simply sat back and sighed, “Ah, yes!” Love the form and where it took you. I think this might very well be my favorite of your poems. That’s saying a lot cause I truly admire most of what you do.

    When an eagle fledgling attempts first flight, the parents follow it and when it loses its effort, one or the other will swoop beneath it and catch it on their back, if they can. Then encourage it to try again by removing all the soft padding from the nest until the young ones must settle for the bare bones of scratchy twigs, or fly to find comfortable rest.

    Your poem is a hymn to this bird enthusiast. And beautiful, Thank you,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

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  14. Another new form to try! I get so much out of this blog, Brenda! What a gift! Regarding your poem, A mother is a mother is a mother, be it in the world of humans or the world of birds! When our young leave the nest, it is a huge adjustment. I miss my son more than my daughter because he lives in New York and she lives a mile away. She’s gone but I see her often. My son, maybe once a year.

    My favorite lines: “our children plummet into real people Peeling away from us, like bark cracking from trees.” Spectacular!

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  15. Another form to investigate. I think I am learning so much more now about poetry now than I did in any classes I ever took. While your bird may have been fiction – I do talk to my backyard birds often (often enough for my family to call me daft – in a nice way!). I enjoyed this worlde most likely because at this point I can see it from both angles – still clearly enough.

    So glad you enjoyed my piece. I am going to have to figure out a way to post the connecting story verses together. I don’t want to clog up one post with printing everything so I just add the links. But as each verse stands alone it isn’t essential to go to the others. The ‘young lad’ came from a prompt of art work over at Writing Our Way Home in a Group called Poetry in Art.

    Thanks for making this weeks continuation a breeze. The words just drew themselves out as I saw the list!

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    • Hi Jules, Thank you for your comments. I’m glad you liked my piece, and that the words flew out easily for you this week. I talk to birds, too…just not this particular robin. LoL

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  16. WOW!!! Brenda….jaw-dropping…you’ve created something so VERY special here today. I’m in amazement with this metaphor:

    ” while our children plummet into real people
    Peeling away from us, like bark cracking from trees.”

    Wow. Excellent wordle indeed! Smiles and thank you for this!

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    • Thanks Margo…The form drove the content. The first thing I thought of was facts for line one. the yappy mother bird… then I came up with what to compare it to….parenting, empty nests, letting go ….etc. I like forms for that reason. They can open ideas for us.

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  20. Well done on meeting the dverse challenge. I love how you align human parents raising their children to the mother Robin. Letting go the apron strings and giving them their independence is a difficult time. So sad the chick fell into the mouth of a cat. It’s what natures does though.
    This was a truly fabulous read Brenda.

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  23. I enjoyed this, the comparison between a bird raising/launching its young and a human raising / launching its young. And how sad about the baby bird falling and then being devoured by a feline. We hope that our children can avoid the dangers all about in the world. I hope that the mimicing of the mother bird’s voice let her know that you shared her pain!

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  24. Oh Brenda … So lovely.. will investigate the form – for now must go to sleep – I am not up early – have not yet been to bed – sun is rising…

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    • tsk tsk, Pearl… get some sleep. LOL Thanks for stopping by. You really should check out the link offered to dVerse above, and read Gay’s posting. It’s a good one, and explains the form well with a great example in Wallace Stevens’ work.

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