All winter long a chittering of juncos forage for seeds under a maple tree, hopping on short, slender legs, their pink beaks pecking in snow or leaf litter. Tilting heads from side to side, bright black eyes always alert for hawk’s shadow, ready to flutter for cover in an instant melting into a gray and white world.
I think the “Hope is…” beginning works better for this poem. Although I used the cherita form (thank you for the inspiration, Mary Lee!) this isn’t exactly a story. But poets are always breaking rules!
Today’s letter is H, and because H is for hope and also for hawk, I’m going to mix things up a bit. Today I’m using Natalie Babbitt’s “Delicious is…” format, defining hope using an acrostic about my neighborhood hawk.
Hope is…
Hawk, sitting still as a statue Atop an old snag Waiting, watching, her Keen eyes peeled for her next meal.
Spring break has begun! The last few weeks have been a whirlwind, and I’m looking forward to having time to catch my breath. Somehow I have managed to keep up with my poetry project. Because it’s the first Friday of the month, it’s also the Inkling challenge. This month, Mary Lee randomly chose these words: knuckle, denial, turn, cautious, then asked us to “use three or more …in a poem.” At first, I had no idea how I was going to work these words into a poem about hope and keep the alphabet pattern I’m using. But I kept thinking. When I was scrolling through photos on my phone, looking for something else, I found this:
Problem solved! My plan for this project wasn’t completely clear when I began, but I have decided to try to write about plant or animal species native to my area. This picture was taken on a walk last spring. I also have been playing with different forms. A Fib seemed like a natural fit for a poem about ferns. Today’s poem is a variation, beginning with one syllable, building to eight, then working back to one syllable.
Ferns, green spirals, uncurl like a fist, cautiously at first, one knuckle at a time, then swiftly turning into a wide sail, soaking up sustaining light from the sun
Please be sure to visit my fellow Inkling, Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche, for this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup AND the next line in the Progressive Poem. Then check in with the rest of the Inklings to see how they responded to Mary Lee’s challenge.
each spring woolly bear caterpillars creep out from under logs and leaves, their winter hideaways, ready to spin a bristly cocoon, transforming themselves
into creatures of the night sporting creamy spotted wings: isabella tiger moths
Reading to the Core 