Last week I wrote down two lines from Poetry Friday posts. The first was a line from Amy, “If you let yourself.” The second was a clunker that Linda was giving away. “the wish is the thing.”
From those two line gifts, I wrote this draft that I haven’t thrown away yet.
If you let yourself
fail & appear worthless,
a freedom sets in.
Instead of focus on results,
you can concentrate
on the work
of being human.If you let yourself
Margaret Simon, draft
trust the sun to fertilize,
you can leave the blooming
to God & be still–
the wish is the thing.
I received two gift poems today from Tabatha’s wonderful summer poetry swap. Tabatha herself sent me a snake poem. Apparently July 16th is World Snake Day . Who knew? On that day, I opened my storage shed to get the hidden key to our house, and a small very wiggly snake was at my feet caught up in a spider web. I grabbed the key and ran, leaving the door open in case the little scoundrel got itself loose.
For her poem, Tabatha imagined me going on a snake hunt with my grandson. Coincidentally, Leo and I did find a dead snake in our yard a few months ago. He still remembers that snake and points to the spot where we saw it every time. “Nake gone.”
SNAKE HUNTING WITH GRANDMA
Grandma packs our drinks and snacks,
squirts sunblock and rubs it in.
I pick a stick for each of us
to peek at things hidden.
We need a map to follow—
I draw the view from east to west,
plus rainbow snakes sleeping
next to eggs in their nests.
It’s rainbow snakes we’re hunting—
I see garters every day—
A water snake isn’t rare
and king snakes come to play
(sort of). But a rainbow snake’s
a serpent I haven’t seen,
a funny kind of rainbow
with no orange, blue, or green.
Grandma and I walk and watch,
hear noisy birds, see speedy deer,
steer clear of snapping turtles,
and spook hares that disappear.
As we go, we keep our eyes peeled
for the stripes of rainbow snakes.
If we don’t spot one, we still had fun,
and we will hunt another day!
by Tabatha Yeatts
for Margaret Simon, Summer Poem Swap 2020
I also received a poem from Christie Wyman. She, too, captured the bayou life and joy of grandparenting.
Wandering and wondering
Together, hand in hand
Through the parish
Along the Teche’s shores
Among sugar cane and pagesListening
For whispers, songs, and the wood duck’s call
Feeling
Life in abundance
Seeking inspirationA shared joyful connection
To the web of natureJoy upon the pages
Christie Wyman, 2020
Reflections on the Teche 
Margaret, I love how you’ve taken those two lines and created such a powerful poem! “If you let yourself/fail” –there’s some food for thought! Thanks also for sharing the beautiful swap poems you received. Clearly your love of nature and your grandchildren is something to be celebrated!
Gifts all around! You have anchored the two lines from last week into a promising poem and Tabatha and Christie seem to have great insight into the fun adventures you share with your grand. Thanks for sharing. 🙂
So much to learn here, here Margaret! – appreciations for what you did with Amy’s line & Linda’s “clunker” which in your hands is rendered smooth.
I didn’t know of the rainbow snake. And I do hope that wee one the web waylaid, wiggled free. My hubby & I have seen the beloved, rare, blue indigo snake on the Alum Bluffs, a trail at the Apalachicola River & the less-rare,
a not-beloved, rattlesnake (several times, this is Rattler Country ~~ North Florida.) Every snake, garden, black, native red rate, helps me marvel at how they hold silent still, or ribbon-move, & I’m more mindful of their role in the Universe.
What a fun and wonderful and rich post! I love what you did with my clunker. It’s shiny and new in your poem. It’s hard to believe Leo is already at the stage of talking. He was just born! But, I would remember a “nake gone” too. Oh, I just can’t stand being startled by a snake. Tabatha is such a gift-giver of poetry. Her poem naming different snakes is a treasure. Christie’s last line…”joy upon the pages” is sure and slow and so fitting for that photograph. I love it. You are a rich girl this week!
As you know, I am a fan of letting yourself make mistakes! Your “clunker” poem hits the spot. Like Linda, I like that “joy upon the pages” from Christie. Togetherness and joy in the journey. ♥️
What refreshing poems all of these are beginning with your own Margaret, they seem to let you breathe a bit easier, even with all those snakes… And I love that wish in your ending poem, thanks!