Sometimes I don’t know I’ve left until I’m gone.
It’s a choreography I learnt by accident,
aware that the ghost of me is still sitting somewhere,
that you might have noticed I’ve only remained in part.
Fading out is a tricky habit to break,
there’s no pattern to the way my limbs leave
so I let myself go along with the easiness of it all.
My toes already bare on another floor,
I’m sure I must have left a clue somewhere
that I was always waiting for the road to turn off.
First, find a poem in a book or magazine (ideally one you are not familiar with). Use a piece of paper to cover over everything but the last line. Now write a line of your own that completes the thought of that single line you can see, or otherwise responds to it. Now move your piece of paper up to uncover the second-to-last line of your source poem, and write the second line of your new poem to complete/respond to this second-to-last line. Keep going, uncovering and writing, until you get to the first line of your source poem, which you will complete/respond to as the last line of your new poem.
I used Sarah Kay’s poem ‘The Moves’ for this prompt but I’ve not been strict about using the bit of paper as I can feel myself flagging a bit and by the time I’d found one I’d probably just want to take a nap instead of writing a poem. Either way, I hope you like it.