Women’s Poetry Workshop, 610 BCE Anne Harding Woodworth

Women’s Poetry Workshop, 610 BCE

Every eve of a full moon, the women met upstairs in the gynaikon of famous poet Desma.

One night, young lovely Sappho arrived. Her poetry had caught the attention

of Malamati, whose own poetry was only tolerated among the group.

Each woman recited a poem, and there followed high encomium,

perhaps slightly less for Malamati. And then it was Sappho’s turn.

When she’d finished, the group remained soundless, until Zephyra pointed out

faulty logic and non-sequiturs, phrases that went nowhere. “Mere fragments,” she ventured.

The poem needed “fleshing out,” Nyx muttered under her dark breath, and several laughed

knowingly because Nyx usually insisted on “tightening up” and deleting the first stanza.

Desma turned to Sappho, and in a sugary voice vowed to the young poet that she had a lot of work to do

or she would never be as widely recited as, say, Anthousa the Lily, Nyx, or even Malamati.

“Your meter works, perhaps, but you must finish your lines, your thoughts, find the perfect closure.”

And Sappho wept right there in front of all thefamous women.