Poetry Friday: A Luc Bat

December 1, 2023 Catherine Flynn13 Comments

Happy December 1st! A new month brings a new Inkling challenge, and this month Molly challenged us to write Luc Bat poems. I found this form of interlocking rhymes to be pretty tricky. Thanks to my extraordinary Inkling pals, though, my attempt adheres to the format.

All summer, a thick cloak
of emerald shields oak and ash,
hiding cracks where critters stash
ripe nuts, shrouding a cache of seeds.
A hole where owl can feed
her brood good meals they need to thrive,
or honey-laden hives
tucked deep within, alive with bees.
Walking by, you will see
a quiet, stately tree. Its heart
holds secrets uncharted.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Read how the other Inklings responded to Molly’s challenge here:

Heidi Mordhorst @ My Juicy Little Universe
Linda Mitchell @ A Word Edgewise
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone

Be sure to visit Anastasia Suen at her blog for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Poetry Friday: Lost

November 10, 2023 Catherine Flynn11 Comments

Last year, my fellow Inkling, Linda Mitchell, challenged us to use the #folktaleweek prompts found on Instagram to inspire our writing. This was a challenge I could sink my teeth into. (Here is my response to last year’s challenge.) This year, life has conspired to sharply limit my writing time and energy, but I miss it. I need to find my way back to a more consistent practice. What better way than to challenge myself to use these prompts again? “Lost” is this year’s first word.

Left adrift on a vast
Ocean to wander, a voyager
Searches for an elusive quarry: her own
True north.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Where will this journey take me? I’m excited to find out.

Please be sure to visit Karen Edmisten for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Poetry Friday: Prose-Inspired Poetry

November 3, 2023 Catherine Flynn18 Comments

Happy Friday, everyone! The first Friday of the month brings us to another Inkling challenge. This month, Linda asked us to

Write a prose piece–find a poem in it.

Or, write a poem, and expand it into a prose piece
Or, find a prose piece, transform it into a poem
Or, find a poem and transpose it into a prose piece
Any interpretation of this prompt is perfect
Going rogue is acceptable too
If you end up writing longer than a page of prose, share just a snippet

After a month of searching for an idea, I decided to dig deep into my notebooks for my response to Linda’s challenge. On October 21, 2007, I wrote:

Inspired by an ad in The New York Times:

Last night, as I was sorting through a box of old photos, I found one of me and Mother in the garden one long ago Halloween night. I think I was eight or nine. A white sheet with two holes cut out (unevenly; or maybe it’s my head that’s lopsided) for eyes is draped over me. A plastic jack-o-lantern rests at my feet, ready to be filled with treats. Mother had made a slit on each side so I could carry my cache of candy. I remember tripping on the extra inches of fabric pooling around my feet as we paraded around the neighborhood.

What’s really striking about this photo, though, is Mother. Someone who didn’t know her might think she was in costume, too. But her ensemble is classic Mother. Her black patent leather Mary Janes is outshone only by the perfectly poised handbag resting in the crook of her elbow. She’s wearing bright orange tights and a brown mohair coat, adorned with a doll as a corsage. Her hands are sheathed in tiger-striped gloves.

How I adored her. She was the coolest mother by far, but my friends’ mothers snubbed her. “We make our own fun,” she always said to me. And we always did. And she was always the snazziest dresser, even in the nursing home. On our last Halloween together, she wore a leopard print turban with a bright orange caftan that outshone the moon.

Here is the photo:

And here is the poem:

Parading around the neighborhood
one long ago Halloween night,
Mother and I turned heads.
Me, a lopsided ghost,
trying not to trip on
the voluminous
white sheet, barely
able to see through
two lopsided eyes,
carrying a plastic
pumpkin filled
with treats.

She, a general, standing
tall in orange tights
and shiny Mary Janes
leading her troop.
No flashlight for us.
She was a beacon.
I would have followed
her to the moon.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit my fellow Inklings to see how they responded to Linda’s challenge:

Linda @A Word Edgewise
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche

Don’t forget to visit Buffy Silverman for the Poetry Friday Roundup!

Poetry Friday: The Roundup is Here!

October 12, 2023 Catherine Flynn30 Comments

Welcome to the Poetry Friday Roundup! (Curious about Poetry Friday? Read this post by Renée M. LaTulippe.) I’m happy to be your host today. The news this week is heartbreaking and scary. At times like these, poetry is especially important, as it reminds us of our common hopes and dreams, desires and longings. I sure the posts shared today will bring us hope for peace.

When I told Heidi I would take over her hosting duties today, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to feature Irene Latham‘s incredible new book, The Museum on the Moon: The Curious Objects on the Lunar Surface. (Bushel & Peck Books, 2023) As a child of the sixties and the daughter of an Air Force veteran, the NASA program and the Apollo missions were woven into our family life. Launches and splashdowns were required viewing. Irene has taken us beyond what we watched on TV or read about in Life magazine to the surface of the moon. She has written with her hallmark wordplay and vivid descriptions to give us insights into the objects brought along on those pioneering flights. From the symbolic (“Old Glory,” describing the “time-tattered, sun-battered” flag left at each landing site) to the deeply personal (a photograph of “one smiling family” that “makes its home/on the lunar floor), Irene’s poems give us new insight into things we thought we knew and teaches us much more we that we didn’t. For instance, I remember the Alan Shepard’s golfing (“Alan Shepard’s Advice for Golfing on the Moon”), but I didn’t know about the gold replica of an olive branch that Neil Armstrong left at the Sea of Tranquility (“Peace”). The realistic illustrations of Myriam Wares, in a palette of warm blues and rosy pinks, brings each of these poems to life.

I originally wanted to write about The Museum on the Moon back in September, closer to its launch on September 19th, but I have a new role and responsibilities at my school and getting into the swing of things took every brain cell I had. This was just before Dot Day. As I read “Forever Footprints,” this photograph came to mind:

Somehow, this reminded me of the Cueva de las Manos in Argentina. Apparently our desire to leave our mark is ancient and universal.

This sparked the idea for this poem:

“Giant Leap”

Ghostly handprints,
Images stenciled in stone, reach out
Across millennia
Narrowing distance,
Transcending time. Ten thousand

Lifetimes later, lunar
Explorers left footprints,
Announcing our
Presence, our will to leave our mark eternal.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Thank you, Irene and Myriam, for this gorgeous inspiring book. Don’t forget to leave a link to your Poetry Friday post!

Poetry Friday: Laws of Motion

October 5, 2023 Catherine Flynn16 Comments

The first Friday of the month means it’s time for another Inkling challenge. This month Mary Lee prompted us to “Choose an image from the Visual Frameworks site. Write a poem inspired by the image.” This is a really cool site and full of images representing a myriad of ideas. I was inspired by this image:

Laws of Motion

I rush to the apple tree,
fling my backpack to the ground.
I hurl myself onto my swing
and the world blurs
as I launch into the sky.

The whir of crickets and cicadas
buzz around me, drowning
out the jeers and jibes
of the kids on the bus.

I squeeze my eyes shut
forcing tears and taunts
away, today’s dose
of teasing swept away
by waves of wind.

I pump my legs,
back and forth,
harder,
go higher,
and escape

for now.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit my fellow Inklings to see what images they were inspired by.

Linda @A Word Edgewise
Heidi (is currently on blog hiatus)
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche

Then head over to Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme, where Matt has the Poetry Friday Roundup. And, in case you missed it on Mary Lee’s blog, I’ll be hosting next week!

Poetry Friday: September Garden

September 7, 2023September 8, 2023 Catherine Flynn18 Comments

September Garden

The magenta petals of cosmos
surround a circle
of starry stamens
like an Elizabethan ruff
of pleated silk.
They are a beacon
to bees and butterflies,
now in a delirious frenzy
to gather every particle of pollen
before the petals drop
and summer’s bounty
fades into memory.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at The Poem Farm for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Poetry Friday: Enjambment and Peach Jam

August 31, 2023 Catherine Flynn10 Comments

How did it get to be September first? At this time of year, I always think of these lines from Charlotte’s Web:

The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad, monotonous song. ‘Summer is over and gone,’ they sang. ‘Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.”
E.B. White, 1952

This time of year also makes me nostalgic for my grandmother’s peach jam. So when Margaret challenged the Inklings to “write a poem on any topic using enjambment” for our September challenge, I couldn’t resist writing a poem about jam.

Your kitchen

exists only in my memory but I
can walk through that sunny room
as if I was there yesterday.

I can open the silver bread
box and find a loaf
of Pepperidge Farm
white bread, then
pull the cover off
the toaster, pop
two thin slices into
its hungry cavern where
they turn golden and crisp.

While I wait, I get a knife
from the drawer by
the dishwasher and
butter from your old
tan refrigerator. A jar
of peach jam sits on
the table. I pop the
wax seal from its mouth
just as the toast pops
up. I spread butter over
the warm, toasted bread,
then slather the rich,
honey-colored jam
on top. Cinnamon
sweetness fills the air
as I take a bite and dream
of you.

Draft, © Catherine Flynn, 2023

Please be sure to visit all the Inklings to read their enjambment poems, then head over to Ramona’s blog, Pleasures from the Page, for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Heidi Mordhorst @ My Juicy Little Universe
Linda Mitchell @ A Word Edgewise
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone

“A little maple tree in the swamp heard the cricket song and turned bright red with anxiety.” (*Charlotte’s Web*) Photo by Lisa Leo via Morguefile

Poetry Friday: “The World Book”

August 18, 2023 Catherine Flynn15 Comments

Some of you may remember that Garrison Keillor used to begin his weekly news from Lake Wobegon with the phrase “It’s been a quite week in my hometown…” That does not describe life in my neck of the woods this week. In addition to getting ready for the start of school, my hometown is getting ready for the fire department’s annual Country Fair. This is a major fundraiser for them and everyone pitches in to help make it a success. (Read more about the Fair in a previous post here.)

In addition to my Sealey Challenge reading, I’ve been scouring poetry websites for poems to use with my students. While I may not share this one with them, this poem struck a cord with me.

“The World Book”
by Patricia Hooper

When the woman in blue serge
held up the sun, my mother
opened the storm door, taking
the whole volume of S
Into her hands. The sun
shown as a sun should,
and we sat down at the table
leafing through silks and ships,
saints and subtraction. We passed
Scotland and Spain, street-
cars and seeds and even
the Seven Wonders until
the woman who owned them skipped
to the solar system and said
It could be ours.
Read the rest here

This weeks Sealey Challenge titles:

The Maine Coon’s Haiku and Other Poems for Cat Lovers, by Michael Rosen
Heroes and She-roes: Poems of Amazing and Everyday Heroes, by J. Patrick Lewis
The Way Things Are, and Other Poems by Myra Cohn Livingston
We Are Branches by Joyce Sidman
Galapagos: Islands of Change by Leslie Bulion
Counting in Dog Years & Other Sassy Math Poems by Betsy Franco
Today at the Bluebird Cafe by Deborah Ruddell

Please be sure to visit my friend and fellow Inkling Molly Hogan at Nix the Comfort Zone for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

A good omen for the Fair during preparations Wednesday evening!

Poetry Friday: I Remember…

August 11, 2023 Catherine Flynn13 Comments

The Sealey Challenge is “held every august, The Sealey Challenge is a community activity in which participants read a book of poetry each day.” This has always felt overwhelming to me. August is a month of growing panic about what hasn’t been accomplished at home and all that needs to be done before school starts. Throw in a week with my grandchildren, and you see why this is a true challenge!

This year, I decided to focus mainly on books of poetry for children. This was easy because I read them to my grandchildren. I had less time and energy to study these collections closely. As a way to reflect about the collections I’ve read so far, I created a cento of both titles of the collections and titles of individual poems.

Here’s What I remember:
Quiet mornings.
Our cats.
The window.
Tree whispers.
A Butterfly puddle party.
Recess
friends and foes.
Winter in the park.
Amazing Auntie Anne,
The breakfast boss.

I remember…

Source of lines:

“Here’s What I Remember” by Kwame Alexander, I Remember: Poems and Pictures of Heritage, compiled by Lee Bennett Hopkins

“Quiet Morning” by Karen B. Winnick, I Am the Book, selected by Lee Bennett Hopkins

“Our Cats” by Wes Magee, Where I Live: Poems About My Home, My Street, and My Town, selected by Paul B. Janeczko

“The Window” by Walter de La Mare, Where I Live: Poems About My Home, My Street, and My Town, selected by Paul B. Janeczko

Tree Whispers: A Forest of Poems, by Mandy Ross

“Butterfly Puddle Party: by Jane Yolen & Heidi E.Y. Stemple, Yuck, You Suck: Poems about Animals That Sip, Slurp, Suck

“Recess” by Avis Harley, Where I Live: Poems About My Home, My Street, and My Town, selected by Paul B. Janeczko

Friends and Foes: Poems All About Us, by Douglas Florian

“Winter In the Park” by Charles Ghigna Where I Live: Poems About My Home, My Street, and My Town, selected by Paul B. Janeczko

“Amazing Auntie Anne” by Cynthia Leitich Smith I Remember: Poems and Pictures of Heritage, compiled by Lee Bennett Hopkins

“The Breakfast Boss” by Janet Wong, Where I Live: Poems About My Home, My Street, and My Town, selected by Paul B. Janeczko
I Remember: Poems and Pictures of Heritage, compiled by Lee Bennett Hopkins

Other books read for the Sealey Challenge:

Leaf Litter Critters, by Leslie Bulion
Once Around the Sun, by Bobbi Katz
Be a Bridge, by Irene Latham and Charles Waters

Please be sure to visit Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Poetry Friday: The Silver-Spotted Skipper

August 3, 2023 Catherine Flynn16 Comments

The first Friday of the month means it’s time for another Inkling challenge. This month it was my turn to pose a prompt for my writing group partners to respond to.

I read Robin Wall Kimmerer’s brilliant book, Braiding Sweetgrass several years ago and have revisited its wisdom many times since then. One of Kimmerer’s main points is that “It’s a sign of respect and connection to learn the name of someone else, a sign of disrespect to ignore it…Learning the names of plants and animals is a powerful act of support for them. When we learn their names and their gifts, it opens the door to reciprocity.”

Using this idea as inspiration, I encouraged the Inklings to “look closely at the flowers, birds, trees, or other natural features in your neighborhood (or if you’re traveling, a new-to-you species) and write a poem about your chosen species. Free choice of format.”

Not long after I read Braiding Sweetgrass, I discovered the “Seek” app from iNaturalist. Taking Kimmerer’s teaching to heart, I became a bit obsessed with cataloging every plant and insect I see! Some insect names are completely charming. Did you know that hummingbird moths are also known as snowberry clearwings? Neither did I!

My original idea was to write about a double-striped bluet, a type of damselfly, that my granddaughter and I discovered while we were collecting rocks at a lake in Wisconsin. But then I discovered “This Is the Honey” by Mahogany L. Browne. The first line of this poem cried out to be a striking line for a Golden Shovel. This is the poem that emerged: