Fibonacci Experiments

Family

He 

phones 

tonight,

my birthday;

we talk a long time.

He's my friend as well as my son.

(His father is dead and his brother is lost to us.)

We 

talk 

tablets,

mobile phones —

and his new girlfriend.

At Easter they'll come to visit.

(Small core of family left, we're glad of each other.)

Wet City

My 

love's

drowning:

Venice is

flooded and under

water — that city of water —

of sparkling, of singing water.

Now too much water

washes her:

Venice

my

love.

Continuing

We entered the dark of the moon.

Roses were growing

unseen but

their scent

waft-

ed

fill-

ing

the night

with silent

messages of life

continuing to spend itself.

Fibonacci poems (aka fibs) are syllabic, based on the fibonacci numerical sequence in which each number is added to the preceding to make the next. Zero is understood at the beginning, so the syllables then go: 

1 

(1=0=) 1

(1+1=) 2

(1+2=) 3

(2+3=) 5

(3+5=) 8

(5+8=) 13

Theoretically one could keep going, but in a poem that would get more and more unwieldy. It's usual to stop at 8, but not uncommon to continue to 13. And then, as you see, one can vary the form by doubling, reversing, etc.

Submitted for Poets United's Poetry Pantry #124