Pádreg Ó Tuama is a master at the Pantoum poetry form. In his newsletter last week, he offered sentence stems and a 1-8 line prompt. He suggested “Don’t stress over it: bring yourself generously to yourself.” The whole prompt can be found here. If you haven’t tried a Pantoum before, you should give it a try. This time I was pleased enough with the results to share my poem with you.
Time
Today, my mind wants peace
and I watch the white cat;
although yesterday I sang of grace.
As I write, I cling to memory
and watch the white cat.
When I was younger, I thought tears were weak.
As I write and cling to memory,
I couldn’t have known, terrible things would happen.
When I was younger and thought tears were weak,
I wish I’d known grief is a bitch.
I couldn’t have known how terrible things happen.
I had a dream I was a cloud.
Grief is a bitch anyway;
although yesterday I sang of grace.
I dream of clouds.
Today my mind offers peace.
Margaret Simon, draft
May, 2026
Reflections on the Teche 
Brilliant, Margaret. Missing my poetry life. Hoping I will be back soon once again it is choices and time and other needs pulling me away. I am SO glad I opened this email and that I am still on your list. I think this is as close to perfect as you might get, but then again, it’s you, so if you choose to revisit I know it will only be stronger, more powerful. Hugs to you and admiration for all you squeeze into your life.
Janet
Thanks for reading today, Janet. I never really know where poems come from and whether or not they should be shared. You help me with your support. I do know that poetry is always there, even when you take breaks.
This is so honest, grounded, poignant… thank you, Margaret.
I appreciate the word “grounded” as that is not always how I feel.
Your poem is beautiful, Margaret. It skillfully winds the threads of grief and peace throughout. My husband is in a clinical trial for his cancer, and this so reflects my life right now and my feelings. But as you say, “Today my mind offers peace,” as he feels well again and we work in the garden together.
I’m happy my poem spoke to you. Prayers for the healing of your husband. It’s a tough battle.
Margaret, your poem tugs at our grief whether fresh or hidden in shadow. Thank you for ending with peace.
Even through the sad lines and anger, there is gentleness and peace. I feel like saying amen at the end. Amen.
Thanks, it felt like a pleading prayer. Too much tragedy these days. I have a friend who is close to death from cancer, and I feel helpless.
Love that one word change from the first to last line – “wants” to “offers.” it’s what writing poetry does. Beautiful.
This is lovely and so true, Margaret. I love the solidity of the white cat amidst the more abstract ideas and feelings. I’m always so intrigued by how these pantoums form from the prompt.
Intriguing transformation from “terrible things,” to clouds—which I love in there, to grace, to closing with peace in your powerful last stanza, and strong poem, thanks Margaret!
Margaret, I love the hope that accompanies your pantoum, especially paired with the release of a butterfly. Grief transforms us…in time.
Beautiful – sad and hopeful, too, Margaret, just like life. Love the white cat. And that butterfly – so gorgeous.
Gentle, lovely, moving, and relatable, Margaret. I’m glad you brought “yourself generously to yourself.” ❤️
Your pantoum is stunning. I love the line “I wish I’d known grief is a bitch.” I’m putting your poem in my notebook.
Honored to be in your notebook. Thanks. I worried about that abrupt line but it is so true!
Margaret, well done! I love the freedom in your poem, and the subtle change in the peace line–First wanting peace, then offering peace. Perfect!
Wonderful pantoum, Margaret! It’s been awhile since I’ve written a pantoum, and you inspire me to write one. I love that repeating line and could not agree more: grief is indeed a bitch. And yet you surround it with a word like grace and dreams and clouds, giving it the soft pillowy forgiveness and comfort that it needs. I need to take a lesson from you.