I’m going to jump in with an original poem today, which I was only going to do on the weekends, but our days are all mixed up anyway with the wondering of what day it is today, considering the days off from school this week.
I try new forms sometimes and thought this villanelle about death and longing appropriate to share for Good Friday.
Echoes
I trace the echoes on your face,
burned by love and word,
of brighter days and softer place.
A memory I’m left to chase,
your voice endures, unheard,
I trace the echoes on your face.
My breath intrudes me to replace,
like watercolors blurred,
the brighter days and softer place
that death and time plot to erase,
to cause the sonnet slurred.
I trace the echoes on your face.
I mourn this loss of earthly grace
(A clinging hope is stirred
for brighter days and softer place)
and lay my soul in soft embrace,
my paradise deferred.
I trace the echoes on your face
of brighter days and softer place.
—Kristy Dempsey (all rights reserved)
Kristy Dempsey 
Lovely! Plus, I am so impressed with your mastery of this form.
Whoa.
Brava!
Lovely, truly. I will have to try this form.
K…
Brave, clever girl, writing a villanelle. I have written two complete failures in that form that will never, ever, ever be shared in the clear light of day. You have inspired me to try again.
Beautiful, Kristy! You’ve inspired me to try this myself.