LAPIS LAZULI SESTINA

*** A sestina is a poem written according to a pattern-- six stanzas of six lines each, with each line ending in one of six words. Each stanza varies by what words end each line. The sestina ends in a tercet (three lines) using all of the six words. ****

(Note: my writing group does sestinas as a form of writing practice. We will each suggest one word to the group, and then we all go home with 6 words to try and turn into a sestina. A great challenge, and surprisingly fun!)

I saw you across the room as I perused the exhibit of collage.

Seeking a corner of the gallery, I hid behind a fern.

I wasn’t up for the “I’m fine, how good to see you” performance,

acting as if what we had, those years together, didn’t count.

I felt my heartbeat in my ears as I waited, fingered my rings,

then looked down to see the one you gave me, my favorite, the lapis lazuli.

Do you remember the night you gave me the lapis lazuli?

We were in a time of turbulence, highs and lows, an emotional collage.

You sang Happy Birthday, whispered sweet nothings, then gave me the ring.

An hour later, walking at night beside the cool grove of fern

we stumbled into barbed words, the same old fight we’ve had too many times to count.

I couldn’t help but wonder, which words were true and which were the performance?

Now tonight, I dreaded your eyes, your words, the chit-chat performance,

old lovers whose feelings once shone like the twinkling stars in the lapis lazuli,

three years since we’d seen each other, by my count,

lives separate like two paintings by two artists, no longer a collage,

you a prickly desert cactus, while I’m a shade-loving fern,

yet somehow we’re connected still, you the giver, me the keeper, of this ring.

So why did I still wear it, this beautiful ring?

Is it possible to no longer love the actor but like the performance?

Until this moment, hiding behind the fern

I would just shrug, wear the ring, because I love the lapis lazuli.

I’d brush off any memories of our life-entwining collage,

the reminders of you in this ring— surely that didn’t count.

I watched your head turn, eyes meeting mine, on that I didn’t count.

Perhaps my thoughts of you had made your ears ring.

Brows raised, small smile, you stepped away from the bright collage.

I gulped, unsure of my lines in this performance.

I glanced down at the soothing blue of the lapis lazuli,

my pulse quickening as I breathed in the scent of fern.

Then, in the moment before I stepped away from the fern,

seconds passing in a time-warp too slow to count,

I whispered goodbye to the heartbreakingly beautiful lapis lazuli,

Dropped it there, in the dirt of the potted fern, this ring.

Finally free, I pasted on the smile necessary for this performance,

keep it light, only hint of our history, how’ve you been, speak of collage.

And so it remains, in this gallery of collage, rooms of light softened by green of ferns,

I gave my best performance, sang, danced, bowed, and then walked out on perfect count.

My hand was lighter by one ring. I had no more need of that stone, that symbol, that lapis lazuli.

*** Sestina Pattern ***

Stanza 1: ABCDEF

Stanza 2: FAEBDC

Stanza 3: CFDABE

Stanza 4: ECBFAD

Stanza 5: DEACFB

Stanza 6: BDFECA

Tercet: AB-- CD--EF