MY LIFE BY WATER

I rose from marsh mud.
I knew a clean man
I married
in the great snowfall.

Consider at the outset—
I am sick with the Time’s
tradition.

Keen and lovely man,
alcoholic dream.
I lost you to water, summer.

Now in one year
my life is hung up.

July, waxwings
hear
something in the water.

Along the river,
the graves—
traces of living things.

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Source & Method
I constructed this poem, including the title, using only the titles of poems listed in the Table of Contents from the following book:

Niedecker, Lorine. The Granite Pail, edited by Cid Corman, Gnomon Press, 1985, 1996.

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M. Stone is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in San Pedro River Review, UCity Review, formercactus, and numerous other journals.

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Photo by Annie Spratt