Poetry Friday: LOOK

When we moved a couple of years ago, I wanted to dig up some of my bulbs–crocuses and daffodils–to take with me. Along with the sound of spring peepers, they are one of the earliest signs of spring that bring me joy. Even though March is the wrong time of year to dig them up and move them, I did it anyway and hoped for the best.

This year, we finally have a few blooms. Here is one I caught with my camera and in a Fibonacci poem.

LOOK

Look
hard
beneath
last year’s dead
growth and find bright blooms
emerging with new life and hope.

 

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Linda hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Teacher Dance. She welcomes spring despite a snowstorm and explores time. Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Limerick Fun

What a week! It’s been busy and full of many good things, but has left my brain in a most unserious state. Just for fun, I thought I’d share a couple of limericks I wrote during Laura Shovan’s February Daily Poem Project.

This first one was in response to a photo by Buffy Silverman of a dog snout speckled with snow.

The Sniffer

There once was a nose that could smell
the slightest of scents that were swell
from under the snow
where ere it might blow
unless it would lead to a belle.

This next one was in response to some classic advertisements from past decades shared by Patricia Valdata.

The Well-Tailored Man

I once had a well-tailored man
and kept him in check as was planned.
Then pride ran amok
and soon he was stuck.
Now from all style he’s been banned.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Heidi hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at my juicy little universe. She is celebrating birthdays with two delightful poems. Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Once Again

One of the things I look forward to each year is spotting flocks of sandhill cranes as they migrate through our area during the late winter/early spring. This year there has been extra excitement as some have spotted several of the much more endangered whooping cranes among them. I haven’t spotted a whooping crane, but on my commute this week, I did get to see large flocks of the sandhills foraging in the flooded corn fields along the highway.

If you haven’t seen or heard these large birds, who like to travel in packs larger than those of middle school girls, check out this short video from Joel Sartore and CBS Sunday Morning. We don’t have quite as many as Nebraska’s staging area, but I couldn’t count the hundreds spread across several fields. And if you just want to hear their call–there’s not anything else quite like it–here s a short video of their song.

Once Again

The flooded fields
have sprouted feathers
and gangly legs
as red-crowned heads
weave and bob
as far as I can see.
Overhead sleek gray
silhouettes streak
across the azure sky,
long legs stretching behind,
until their bugling cries
echo goodbye.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Kat hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Kathryn Apel – Children’s Author and Poet. She shares her brand new–at least to the rest of the world–picture book The Bird in the Herd and a poem on perseverance.) Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Free the Feet

We are finally thawing out from our deep freeze. While it’s not quite warm enough for bare feet, there are signs of springs. I discovered new green shoots from my crocus and daffodil bulbs poking tentative shoots up from the ground.

Today’s poem looks forward to even warmer days when my toes can enjoy freedom again. It is also one of my daily poems from Laura Shovan’s February Daily Poem Project. Check out the prompts from the past week. They have all been fabulous–and brain-stretching. Just a few more days to go, and I might actually make a poem each day this year.

FREE THE FEET

unfetter my feet
from their boxy boots
and clunky clogs
let them gallop
through fresh spring grass
and sink into warm sand
even let them gingerly
graze across the gravel drive
until they dig
in the garden dirt
and connect again
with earth

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Karen hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Karen Edmisten. She shares the whimsical wisdom of Billy Collins. (Are you as old as Cheerios?) Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: How to Be a Snowman

Brrrr…I hope you are staying warm wherever you are. For once, I may actually have enough snow. We’ve had three snowstorms in the past two weeks. Usually all the snow melts before the next one falls, but not this time.

I am taking part in Laura Shovan’s February Daily Poem Project, and so far have written a poem every day. The prompts on the theme of bodies have been incredible and the poems written in response even more so. This poem came from the prompt offered by Donna Smith, a squiggle (an illustration that she draws from a black squiggle line). This illustration showed a mitten-covered hand adding a carrot nose to a snowman. It seems appropriate for this week’s weather.

How to Be a Snowman

Start with a squiggle of snow
and hope someone
will roll your body into balls.
Shiver.
Stand tall under a top hat.
Stare straight ahead.
Shiver some more.
Try not to sneeze
when a mittened hand
tickles your carrot nose.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Ruth hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken place. She invites everyone to leave a fact that is a poem. She will round them up into a poem along with the links to more poetry. Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Last Goodbye

So far I am managing to keep up with the February Daily Poetry Project hosted by Laura Shovan. Check out this week’s prompts here. Some of the prompts push and challenge me. Some days I write better poems than others. But I am writing every day, which feels good after a too-long hiatus. Even better, I get to read poems everyday around a common prompt and be amazed at the wit and word play and wisdom of other poets.

The poem I’m sharing today is one I’ve been wanting to write since this summer in memory of our dog Trixie, who died after fourteen years with us. Jone MacCulloch shared a gorgeous photo of a close up of a dog’s eye for the prompt. I’m sharing a photo of Trixie with my poem.

Last Goodbye

In those last few days you followed
my every move
with your
eyes.
Your wagging tail
now just
lies
still beyond our
last good
byes.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Molly hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Nix the comfort zone. She offers an Artist’s Prayer and shares her journey to discover it. Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Not Today

I am again taking part in Laura Shovan’s Annual February Daily Poem Project. Check out the prompts for the first week at the link. It is overwhelming on some days, but the practice of writing a poem every day in community is just what I need right now. I am delighted to see the variety of poems written in response to a single prompt. I also enjoy the chance to explore forms I wouldn’t normally write. I’m even getting to explore new-to-me music.

The poem I’m sharing today is from the first day’s prompt–three video links to dances. I chose the K-Pop song (the first one I’ve listened to) covered by a girl dance group. I was captivated by their attitude.

NOT TODAY
shame us
shush us
NOT TODAY
stomp us
stump us
NOT TODAY
bash us
bend us
NOT TODAY
seize us
stop us
NOT TODAY
we will
rise up
speak up
stand up
YES TODAY
Now I’m off to listen to my first song by Lizzo (yes, I need to get out more) for today’s prompt.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Jone hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Jone Rush MacCulloch. She wraps up the New Year Poetry Postcard Exchange (which she generously organizes each year) with a beautiful found poem. Hurry  over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: A Cry Like a Bell (review)

I have long loved the writings of Madeleine L’Engle–she is often the one I name as my favorite author, though I have a hard time narrowing down a favorite book. I started with A Wrinkle in Time and the stories that followed. I met the Austins and devoured the Crosswicks Journals and even explored her ficiton for grownups. I knew she wrote poetry, but had not read much until I received A Cry Like a Bell for Christmas.

In these poems, L’Engle speaks in the voices of Biblical characters, ranging from Eve to Esau, Isaac to the woman at the well. Just as in her other writings, she is unafraid to live in the questions rather than settling for easy answers. She dives into some of the most difficult stories.

What did Isaac think when Abraham let him up the mountain to be sacrificed? Did he ask,

What kind of God the Father would ask Abraham,
Abraham, his son
to offer up Isaac, his son.
Why ask?
Why demand obedience for such a wanton sacrifice?
How can my father’s Father be a God of love?
How could my father sharpen the knife?

And the cry from Jepthah’s daughter in one of her two poems, echoes the cries of so many who face an unjust fate:

Does anybody hear me? El! Are you there?
Where are you? You said you would always care
If you are not, then there is nothing anywhere?

The largest selection of poems wonder at the Incarnation of God come to live among us — not just through the voices of the familiar cast of characters of Mary and Joseph and shepherds and wise men, but many of the poems point to or circle around it as well. The “First coming” seems to speak to where we are today. Here are the first and last stanzas:

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

But it was a line from Balaam’s Ass that stopped me in my tracks:

my heaviest burden is to turn the curse into a blessing

I used it to write a Golden Shovel poem.

My Pledge

I give my
pledge to listen to the heaviest
memories that burden
our shared history. The truth is
needed before we can begin to
reconcile and turn
toward each other in the
hope that the curse
of hate can be shattered into
contrite heart ready to claim a
promise of blessing.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Jan hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Bookseedstudio. She has much to SING about–including upcoming books by Amanda Gorman and lots of resources to learn more about this bright and shining young poet. Hurry over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Truly

Wow! What a week for poetry. There were many things to rejoice in at Wednesday’s Inauguration, but my favorite part was hearing Amanda Gorman recite her poem, “The Hill We Climb.” I am also thrilled that so many people–many of whom did not know they liked poetry–have been moved by her powerful words and performance that more than met the moment we are in and inspires hope for our future.

I am glad she had words to share with us all, because I have struggled to find words at all this week. None of my thoughts or feelings wanted to settle down into words. Fortunately, Laura Shovan and Margaret Simon introduced me to another poet-teacher, who led the way. Stacey L. Joy offered a writing prompt inspired by Nikki Giovanni at Ethical ELA. After several false starts, I wrote a response to Psalm 139, using Nikki GIovanni’s poem “Quiet (for Marvalene)” as a model.

Truly

truly
you know my
deepest being

true
you know
my ways of work
and times of rest

truly
you know
my thoughts before
I share my posts

true
like the stars
that stretch above me and
the sun that rises

truly
you will search for me
and find me wherever
I may wander

true
you created me
in your image

truly
truly
truly

I will praise you
because I am wondrously made

and you called me good

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Laura hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Laura Shovan – Blog. She celebrates Amanda Gorman’s poem and shares more resources to share Amanda’s poetry with students. Hurry over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

Poetry Friday: Lament


It seems we are living in a time for lament. Whether it’s the time we are living through or coincidence, the idea of lament has been coming across my reading and listening.

First, Latasha Morrison introduces acknowledgement and lament as a step in the journey toward racial reconciliation in her book Be the Bridge. First we have to acknowledge hard truths, including our own role. She explains:

In order to move from awareness to acknowledgement, we must first be brave enough to accept the historical truths and modern realities. Yes, we may have to acknowledge the death of Mary Turner in 1918, but we might also have to acknowledge senseless death of a mama’s Black son at the hands of a police officer in 2014. We can’t shy away from the conversations just because they’re uncomfortable or awkward or unpleasant. We can’t change the subject because issues of racism make us feel bad. Instead, we have to have the hard conversations sw we can move to a place of deep lament.

To lament means to express sorrow or regret. Lamenting something horrific that has taken place allows a deep connection to form between the person lamenting and the harm that was done, and that emotional connection is the first step in creating a pathway for healing and hope. We have to sit in the sorrow, avoid trying to fix it right away, avoid our attempts to make it all okay. Only then is the pain useful. Only then can it lead us into healing and wisdom.

I can relate to that desire to rush to justice and to make things better now (especially when there are threats of even more violence looming), but I am trying to sit in this place of lament for our country. Poetry helps, as it offers a voice for lament.

Later this week a friend shared a link to Malcom Guite’s The Random Vandals: A response to psalm 74. Even though he wrote it before January 6. 2021, it seems an appropriate response. These lines in particular caught my heart:

‘How long will the destroyers work their will?

The random vandals who don’t even try

To understand the good things they deface.

They trash the past, and cast a jaundiced eye

On all the works of beauty, art and grace

That once made up our culture.

You can read the rest of the poem here.

Inspired by Margaret’s nestlings she wrote with her students this week, I tried a couple of nestlings from Guite’s poem. It’s much harder than it sounds. I don’t have titles yet. What do you suggest?

vandals
trash our culture
making chaos

——————–

Destroyers
don’t understand
the past.
Their flaming sword
brings darkness.

As I sit with lament this week, and with lots of not knowing (what is coming next, where will we go from here, how do you bring people back to reality), I am trying not to rush through, but to let my sorrow have time to lead me to wisdom.

Each Friday, I am excited to take part in Poetry Friday, where writers share their love of all things poetry. Margaret hosts the Poetry Friday Roundup today at Reflections on the Teche. She shares a tree full of more nestlings and a beautiful poetry gift. Hurry over and check out all the poetry morsels offered up today.

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