Check-In: A Quick Poem with a Long Title

How do you check-in with yourself? Do you take a breather when angst is all around you?

Or maybe you write a poem…of course! This is a Fibonacci Poem, or a “Fib,” which means the sequence of lines are made up of syllables that match the numbers in the famous Fibonacci Sequence, first increasing and then decreasing. A check-in is meant to slow you down long enough to recognize what you’re feeling. The Fib form makes you think harder about the words you choose, inevitably slowing you down.

The sequence is 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13….with the next number in the series equal to the sum of the 2 numbers before it. Of course the sequence starts at zero and a line of zero syllables is just a space…so I start a poem with one syllable. In this case, after I worked my way up to 8 syllables, I reversed the sequence back down to two lines of 1 syllable again.

More on Fibonacci in another post. Today’s poem is just checking in on myself after a few days working from home. Maybe some of you feel the same way…

The House Always Needs Cleaning Even Though The Kids Don’t Think It’s Messy

Cups.
Socks.
Toy trucks.
All scattered.
Rivaling dust bunnies
joust in sunlit corners. No mercy.
Bits left behind them,
Evidence
they have
lived
here.

That is not exactly the state of my house

But close enough. And I think it’s funny to have a title that’s about as long as the rest of the poem.

The more I work from home the more I want to get the Spring Cleaning done. Weekly, even! And my kids are a bit old for the toy trucks but that doesn’t mean we don’t still find the occasional out-of-place old toy or left-behind piece of puzzle or board game. You wonder how it found it’s way out into the open, or how long we’ve passed these things by, not noticing.

During these times of heightened anxiousness, it can be calming just to check in with yourself and name what you’re feeling. We’re often so busy with work and caring for others— I hope you take a moment today for a bit of self-care. Check-in with yourself, take a nap, get outside in the sun (if it’s sunny where you are).

Don’t believe me that the Fib is a “real” form? You can read other poets’ Fibonacci poems in the online journal, The Fib Review.

Missed a poem? Links to prior poems can be found on this page.