Villanelle # 16

In January, I will explore the style of the Villanelle. This form of poetry has a lot of rules. I am normally a rule-breaker, so I take up the challenge of pirouetting across this restrictive dance floor with a degree of trepidation. Villanelle # 16 I will call Silos.

My first love is poetry. I played with rhythms as a child as a favorite toy, writing line after line and verse upon verse down in a notebook my mama gave me. The words became undecipherable squiggly lines dancing across the page.  I remember sitting on my Uncle Harvey’s porch, making up poems only I could read. I learned to write real letters after I started school. That’s when my adventure with poetry started. I found myself in a dance with a fickle dancer. As soon as I got the steps right, the beat changed, and the singer sang a different tune. COVID-19 and retirement have given me the gift of time to explore, study, and capture the essence of poetry, making all its different moved on the page.

The rules I followed writing Villanelle # 16

The rules for creating a Villanelle are simple and straight forward. This style of poetry must have 19 lines and five stanzas. The closing stanza has four lines. Also, line 1 gets repeated in lines 6, 12, and 18. Thus,  line 3 gets repeated in lines 9, 15, and 19. There are so many rules and so little time.

Silos

Silos stand tall washed in winter sun stand tall and strong

Cornfields stretch out naked for miles and miles

Sometimes I feel like I’m living out the lyrics of a country song

Wind out of the west and grey sky overhead, so it won’t be long

Until the world turns white and hostile

Silos stand tall washed in winter sun stand tall and strong

The closest neighbor lived at least down the road a furlong

Supplies laid in protected against the cold versatile

Sometimes I feel like I’m living out the lyrics of a country song

Folks around here are friendly but mighty headstong

Living a self-sufficient county lifestyle

Silos stand tall washed in winter sun stand tall and strong

 I’ve been other places but didn’t seem to belong

So, I stay where I’ve been planted where life is worthwhile

 Sometimes I feel like I’m living out the lyrics of a country song

Talk over at the diner about how it all went so wrong

 Here in the heartland with the ground still fertile

Silos stand tall washed in winter sun tall and strong

Sometimes I feel like I’m living out the lyrics of a country song

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

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