“The writer should never be ashamed of staring. There is nothing that does not require his attention.”
~ Flannery O’Connor ~
Like this blue jay and everyone else in the northeast, I’ve stared at plenty of snow this winter. So how hard could it be to come up with a poem for Carol Varsalona’s “Winter Whisperings” gallery? I had jottings about winter everywhere, a false start to a poem here, a line that definitely should be abandoned there. Nothing was coming together.
Taking a cue from Kate Messner, I decided to try to capture the many different moods of snow into one “Sometimes” poem.
“Sometimes Snow…”
Sometimes snow whispers itself into the world, falling gently to the ground,
muffling every sound.
Sometimes snow ROARS through the air,
the north wind sculpting it
into undulating drifts.
Sometimes snow settles on tree branches,
offering itself to
thirsty blue jays.
Sometimes snow is blue in the moon’s glow,
catching stark shadows,
crisp as X-rays.
But then, come March, snow begins to
melt.
At first just a trickle,
then a torrent,
filling brooks and
streams and rivers,
washing away
our winter weariness,
Be sure to visit Robyn Campbell for the Poetry Friday Round Up, and thank you to Stacey, Tara, Dana, Betsy, Anna, and Beth for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each day during the month of March and on Tuesdays throughout the year. Don’t forget to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.
At the beginning of the month, Michelle Barnes shared a terrific interview with David Elliot on her blog, Today’s Little Ditty. David challenged readers to write a “letter poem to a bird, animal, or other object of our choice.” I have been thinking about this challenge all month, but couldn’t decide what or whom to write to until today when a friend shared a link to this video on Facebook.
I was hooked. After watching the video several times, scrolling through the other photos posted on this site, and, as David suggested, doing some research, I drafted this letter poem to Mr. and Mrs. Eagle.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Eagle,
The world has snatched the privacy of your tree-top aerie;
While on a clutch of eggs you brood,
to our TV screens we’re glued.
We marvel at your fortitude, braving wind and snow in solitude,
to tend your unborn chicks with care
one hundred feet up in the air.
Taking turns to hunt and fish, you bring your mate a tasty dish.
Now it’s your shift on the nest;
roll those eggs, then get some rest.
We’ll be watching all month long, waiting to hear your newborns’ song.
Thank you, Michelle and David, for this challenge! Please be sure to visit Michelle’s blog to read more letter poems, and don’t forget to visit Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe for the Poetry Friday Round Up.
Children are full of priceless observations. My own boys made their fair share of pronouncements that brought a smile to my face. Nye’s poem made me wish I had written down some of their comments. Ah well, sometimes a picture truly is worth a thousand words.
Please be sure to visit Linda at Teacher Dance for today’s Poetry Friday Round Up.
My grandmother gave me my first seashell when I was about five years old. Since then, these treasures from the sea have fascinated me. My grandmother was not a sentimental person; she endured many hardships, including raising three children through the Depression, during her long life. But she was a generous person, not only with material objects, but also with her time, and especially her knowledge. An eighth-grade graduate, she nevertheless was a storehouse of information which she willingly and often shared with her family. Rachel Carson once said that “if a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder, he needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with him the joy, excitement, and mystery of the world we live in.” My grandmother was this person to me.
The red helmet shell my grandmother gave me when I was five.
When she became bedridden in her late eighties, my mother, sister, cousins, and I faced the daunting task of emptying her house. Most of the shells that I had loved studying as a child became mine. I’ve shared them with my kids and my students, and I have them scattered throughout my home. An arrangement here, a basket there, a single magnificent conch on a table. I think of my grandmother every time I look at them.
So when Michelle, of Today’s Little Ditty, announced Joyce Sidman’s challenge two weeks ago to write a “Deeper Wisdom” poem, I didn’t even have to think about the subject of my poem. But I had so many ideas, and I really struggled with this. There are many earlier, very different versions. As I worked on this today, I realized that the title really should be “What Do Mollusks Know?” but that doesn’t have the same appeal, does it?
I first discovered the work of Laura Purdie Salas in 2008 when she wrote a series of poetry books for Capstone Press. Tiny Dreams, Sprouting Tall: Poems About the United States and Lettuce Introduce You: Poems About Food were perfect for two units my colleagues and I were revising. Since that time my students and I have enjoyed Stampede: Poems to Celebrate the Wild Side of School (Clarion, 2009), Bookspeak: Poems About Books (Clarion, 2011), and most recently, A Rock Can Be… (Millbrook, 2015). (A complete list of Laura’s books can be found here.) So last spring, when Laura put out a call for teachers to collaborate with her on her latest poetry project, I jumped at the chance. I was thrilled to be chosen to create activities for Wacky, Wild, and Wonderful: 50 State Poems.
I loved every minute of working with Laura on this project.These poems, rich in imagery and figurative language, inspired many extension and enrichment activities. They celebrate the diversity of our ecosystems and geologic formations, as well as bring our history to life. I learned about landmarks I’d never heard of, and started planning trips to some of them! Laura graciously gave me permission to share some of her wonderful poems from this collection today. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
“Indiana: Time to Walk the Dogwood”
Black-Eyed Susanrings the Bluebells— “Dinnertime! Come eat!” Sweet William drinks his Milkweed with a sweet Mayapple treat.
They eat their toast with Buttercups and have a lovely talk.
Then dinner’s done and they must take
their Dogwood for his walk.
William wears his Dutchman’s Breeches,
white and pressed and neat.
Susan’s Yellow Ladyslippers snuggle up her feet.
Dogwood chases Cardinals flashing
red and wild and bright.
His Fleabane’s bad, he needs a bath—
another busy night.
It’s time to watch the Shooting Stars against the darkened sky.
William plants a kiss on Sue—
Another day’s gone by.
This poem, with its bouquet of Indiana wildflowers brought to life, begs to be illustrated. My art skills weren’t up to the task, but I’m sure there are plenty of young artists whose are!
Laura used an impressive variety of poetic forms in this collection. “America the Beautiful” is one of my favorite patriotic songs, so I especially loved “Colorado: Pink Lady (A Poem for Two Voices)” I can’t wait to hear our fourth graders performing this poem!
Pike’s Peak, (Library of Congress, Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons)
This is a must-have collection for any classroom learning about the United States. Laura’s engaging poems will make students’ research about the states more meaningful and memorable. Click here for information on how to get your copy of Wacky, Wild, and Wonderful: 50 State Poems.
Thank you, Laura, for letting me share your work here today, and for giving me the opportunity to be part of this terrific poetry collection!
Be sure to visit Irene Latham at Live Your Poem for the Poetry Friday Round Up, and you can read North Carolina’s poem today on Laura’s blog.
Discovery #1 (First in a series in honor of my OLW for 2015: discover.)
How do you decide on which poem to share on Fridays? Does a poem you’ve read during the week resonate so much that it must be shared? Do you write an original poem based on an event or an emotion from the previous week? If you’re like me, the answer is yes and yes. In other words, it depends. But what about those weeks when nothing strikes you, or life in general is so hectic you haven’t had time to sit down and write much of anything that’s worthy of sharing? When this happens to me, as it often does, I head over to Anita Silvey’s excellent blog, The Children’s Book-a-Day Almanac. In a sidebar, Anita offers tidbits such as this: “It’s Bubble Bath Day.” (Now there’s a topic for a poem!) By checking Anita’s blog on Wednesday (you can skip ahead to see what’s coming up), I discovered that today is Connecticut’s birthday. My home state was admitted to the United States on this date in 1788.
Not knowing any poems about Connecticut off the top of my head, I Googled “poems about Connecticut” and quickly learned that Wallace Stevens was an insurance executive who lived in Hartford (surely I knew this and had just forgotten), and that Marilyn Nelson is a professor emeritus of English at the University of Connecticut and was our state’s Poet Laureate from 2001-2006. How had I missed that!?
I have been a fan of Marilyn Nelson’s poetry from many years. Miss Crandall’s Boarding School for Young Ladies and Little Misses of Color, (Wordsong, 2007) cowritten with Elizabeth Alexander, describes an important piece of Connecticut history and is part of our eighth grade’s Civil Rights unit. A Wreath For Emmett Till (Houghton Mifflin, 2005), Nelson’s haunting, magnificent book-length crown sonnet about the murder of Till in 1955 is also included in this unit. On a previous Poetry Friday, I shared Sweethearts of Rhythm (Dial, 2009) the story of “the first integrated all-women swing band in the world.”
Nelson’s latest book, How I Discovered Poetry, was published last year to universal acclaim and is on many short lists for the upcoming ALA awards. The images Nelson crafts in these poems are stunning and startling. In one poem, she states that “Our leaves/become feathers./With wings we wave good-bye to our cousins.” Another poem is about a birthday party until the very end when, “a jet/made a sonic boom/like a hammer on an iron curtain.”
In the title poem, Nelson captures that moment when she first glimpsed “the power of words.”
How I Discovered Poetry
It was like soul-kissing, the way the words
filled my mouth as Mrs. Purdy read from her desk.
All the other kids zoned an hour ahead to 3:15,
but Mrs. Purdy and I wandered lonely as clouds borne
Photo taken by me in the parking lot of the grocery store one morning last September.
This poem seems appropriate for a new year, when anything and everything seems possible. I’m looking forward to sharing a year filled with poetry (and prose!) with all of you. Happy New Year!
Please be sure to visit Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect for the first Poetry Friday Round Up of 2015.
