by Barb, writing away in Portland, Maine

I love writing to prompts. There are many kinds of prompts: a word or phrase, a physical object, a photo or other image, or even a piece of music. Typically, when you write to prompts in a group setting with other writers, you get a limited amount of time, say 10 or 15 minutes, to write.

Over the years, my production in these situations has been equal parts memoir, essay, and fiction. I’ve completed a couple of pieces I started writing to prompts, but mostly it’s a limbering up exercise and an opportunity for collegiality that keeps me fresh. I have a tendency to think too much and the focus provided by the prompt, along with the time limit, gets me out of my own way.

Here is a piece that I wrote in 2007 in response to the prompt, “Finish the phrase, ‘It’s too soon to tell.'” It may have special meaning for me today as I await the birth of my second grandchild.

It’s Too Soon To Tell

It’s too soon to tell

Will he have his mother’s fine skin,

His father’s auburn hair,

His Uncle Charlie’s protuberant ears?

It’s too soon to tell

Will he have his grandmother’s gift for music

His grandfather’s way with words,

Cousin Violet’s wonderful laugh?

Will he run races like his Uncle Pearce?

Build great cities like his Cousin Neville?

Or write software like Rita’s daughter Lil?

It’s too soon to tell

Will he have Aunt Clea’s love of the bottle,

Uncle Henry’s black depressions,

Cousin Mortimer’s passion for unsuitable women

Or Cousin Jasper’s for unsuitable men?

Will he know great love?

Will he go to war?

Will he know want, or will his pockets always be full?

This much we do know

He smells like heaven

His smile lights up the sky

His cry breaks your heart

And he holds each of us in the palm of his hand

Because we can’t wait to discover

The oh, so many things

It’s too soon to tell