by Stewart Conn
Today’s workshop was on the arc of the poem,
its variance in accord with structure and length.
Compare for instance the hundred metres hurdles
of the sonnet to the epic’s marathon run.
But rather than tilt at these I find I am channelling
my energies into listening for the starting–gun,
then head–down, and in as many heart–beats
as it takes, concentrating on the arc from me to you.