In the 2007 edition of Poet's Market I read about this closed poetry form called the "minute," which consists of three quatrains which all follow the syllabic pattern 8, 4, 4, 4. Minutes are generally written to capture a "slice of life." I did some digging and found a few other poets who also took a liking to this form. I particually like Brooks Lampe.

To add a challenging twist to the minute, some poets adhere to a rhyme scheme of a a b b c c d d e e f f. Couplets, in other words. Writing inside both syllabic and rhyme patterns was excrutiating to me at first. But after excessive trial & error, I managed to come out with the following poem, titled "Black Bear."

Faith lives in me like a black bear--
deep asleep--where
my left lung meets
my heart. Asleep--

in that glacial place, dreaming of
His innate love--
not to mention
condescension.

I can’t seem to wake it, so why
is it in my
body? Why waste
all of this faith?

I loved the style so much, that I decided to stick with it. Since early October I've completed five minutes, an assorment of rhymed and unrhymed. The following is of the unrhymed variety.

"Birch Tree Girl"

She waits with outstretched branches, straight,
peeling white skin,
aching with thirst
down to her roots.

She grows slower than a corpse rots
in its hole--she’s
been positioned
here for so long.

With a deafening crack, blinding
lightning bolt splits
her into two
and disappears.