I received another poem swap gift. Poets are incredibly creative people, so it’s always exciting to see what arrives. Joy Acey sent me a hawk feather, along with an artistic background and original poem. Her poem is a minute poem, 60 syllables. This was a new form for me, so I decided to capture a moment with a student today in my own minute poem, a sort of call and response with Joy’s poem.
Hawk Feather
The hawk soars in sky-high circles
floating on air
around the sun
riding jet streams.Its rust and black feathers flutter
lifting to glide.
A feather drops.
Grab the treasure.Pull the feather across your skin;
caress softness.
It feels so smooth.
Hear the hawk’s dreams.–Joy Acey, 2015, all rights reserved
Joy Comes Back to You
Such joy returned
when I saw your face
upturned to me
from a warm embrace.Summer sun kisses
on your pink cheeks
reflecting light
from your blonde hair streaks.Like a new butterfly
on a wisp of wind,
you lift my spirit
once again,
my student,
my friend.–Margaret Simon