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Archive for October 15th, 2016

Poetry Friday is with sweet Irene from Birmingham.

Poetry Friday is with sweet Irene from Birmingham.

moonrise

I was letting this Poetry Friday go, but this morning (Saturday) I received the Full Moon Alert from my friend Jim.  Jim has missed two FMAs.  When I saw him out dancing at La Poussiere a few weekends ago, I felt I conjured him out of the dust. (La Poussiere means “the dust” in Cajun French.) Turns out, Jim and his wife Paula are fine, just busy.  That’s my excuse, too.  Well, isn’t it everyone’s?

The thing I love about Jim, in addition to his attention to nature and moons, is his love of poetry.  I am reposting the two poems he sent.  The first is from David Lee.  I have taken in the hummingbird feeder, but I still have such a fond image of them at the feeder this summer.

 

Hummingbird at the feeder in my backyard. Taken August 30th. Photo by Margaret Simon

Hummingbird at the feeder in my backyard. Taken August 30th. Photo by Margaret Simon

Ode Beneath a Hummingbird Feeder

1

Greenflash of lightning
and memory of a red scar
etched on the golden throat
of a still afternoon.

2

Whirr of tiny wings
like a small thunder
across the redwood porch.

3

Oh, arrogant little warrior,
if I had a naked weapon
I could brandish like yours,
I, too, would suffer
no foolish rival suitors
sipping at my ruby fount.

–David Lee 

The second poem Jim sent was by Mary Oliver.  The sentiment she expresses of hurricanes and the resurrection after is familiar to me.  I send this out to my Poetry Friday friends who recently endured Hurricane Matthew.

HURRICANE

It didn’t behave
like anything you had
ever imagined. The wind
tore at the trees, the rain
fell for days slant and hard.
The back of the hand
to everything. I watched
the trees bow and their leaves fall
and crawl back into the Earth.
As though, that was that.
This was one hurricane
I lived through, the other one
was of a different sort, and
lasted longer. Then
I felt my own leaves giving up and
falling. The back of the hand to
Everything. But listen now to what happened
to the actual trees;
toward the end of that summer they
pushed new leaves from their stubbed limbs.
It was the wrong season, yes,
But they couldn’t stop. They
Looked like telephone poles and didn’t
care. And after the leaves came
blossoms. For some things
There are no wrong seasons.
Which is what I dream of for me.

–Mary Oliver 

 

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Find more celebration posts at Ruth's blog.

Find more celebration posts at Ruth’s blog.

October is my favorite month of the year. The air is cooling. My favorite fruit is ripe, satsumas. And Halloween is coming soon.

This week I had a discussion about Halloween with my Voxer group. For me Halloween evokes memories of my super-mom-syndrome days when I decorated, made costumes, and invited friends over for hot dogs and chili. I remember when my girls and I dressed as the Wizard of Oz characters.

Lately, though, Halloween is a happy memory. But one of my schools is going all out. I am on the first grade hall, and my door was the only one not decorated. So I turned to Pinterest. I’ve never used Pinterest in this way before. I emailed myself a picture and with the help of one of my students, we made the door look like a one-eyed purple monster.

pinterest-halloween-door

Pinterest Halloween door

Andrew made a plan to read aloud to his sister’s first grade class.  He selected the book Louise Loves Art.  We had such fun reading the book, singing along with Emily Arrow, and drawing Kelly Light’s cat “Chuck.”  We tweeted to Kelly Light.

Emily made me my own pair of Louise glasses.

louise-glasses

 

 

Friday was Madison’s ninth birthday.  We celebrated with chocolate-chocolatey cupcakes.  They decorate them with candy pieces.  Look at those smiles!

we-love-cupcakes

We love cupcakes!

By Friday evening, I was exhausted.  I headed out to pickup takeout and the moon was rising in the sunset.  I had to stop and notice.  There is always time to stop and notice.

moonrise

 

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