It’s A Villanelle (About Fred)

And I remember Fred
– In the dying of the night –
because he’s dead.

A girl walks past with small steps, beloved,
With starlight
Reflected in her eyes, and I remember Fred;

I remember how he had often fled –
no shining armour for this reclusive knight,
And I wonder if I see him in this way only because he’s dead.

The laugh lines lie around my eyes; my face looks like crumpled lead
because warped window-corner fragmented shatter-sight
is not conducive for self-reflection, and I remember Fred.

The rain stills to a light drizzle and up ahead
I see him standing in the greyish pre-dawn light.
Except he isn’t any more; because he’s dead.

Turning over in my bed
I see a shadow and scream in fright,
And I remember Fred;
because he’s dead.

For English, we had to write villanelles – a very rigid form of rhyming poetry. This was my first attempt – at the beginning I had written ‘him’, and then forgotten that the third and first lines had to rhyme, thus the name Fred. Also, it’s still kind of cheating because I’ve added to the repeating lines – they are meant to remain unchanged.

The most difficult part is to find a decent rhyming couplet. This one wasn’t. Also that because things have to rhyme, the poem doesn’t sound like a natural grouping of words; rather, “this has to rhyme and make a decent amount of sense, what can I do?” (Therefore, this attempt’s awful)

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