The Ceremony, Aria Aber
Lately I've been all tercets in the first draft. I'm not really sure why except that I get into these form rhythms and then have to write out of it. I love the sheer scope of this poem, the attention to stay inside the self and write all the way out to God and back. The nearly cheeky self-indictment in the last stanza, "All this time it had been wrong, / the way I was beseeching–– / to want the universe to pity me."
And for a crash course in POWERFUL ASS stanza breaks:
"I inhabited a human or a tree: I remained // a glob of impermanence. Plenty of me"