With my fifth and sixth grade students, I am reading Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse. I’m amazed at the parallels of the Dust Bowl to our current climate crisis in Louisiana, but that is a post for another time. Today I am determined to focus on beauty.
The poem Apple Blossoms was our mentor text. I wrote alongside my students about our favorite fruits. Mine is currently overflowing on a tree in our backyard, the satsuma.
Ode to the Satsuma
after Karen Hesse “Apple Blossoms” Out of the Dust
Not just an orange,
you are the ultimate
citrus,
hanging like golden ornaments
on our tree near the fence
where butterflies play
and spiders web.
Your easy-to-peel goodness
makes anticipation grow
in fall, until by Halloween,
the tree is full, overflowing, drooping, dripping
inviting me to basket
a gift for you
to share juicy sweetness
and smile!Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 
Thanks for today’s beauty, Margaret!!
Oh, such a delicious poem, Margaret!
Wonderful, Margaret! I especially love these images “hanging like golden ornaments
on our tree near the fence
where butterflies play
and spiders web. Great idea using “web” as a verb!
I also enjoyed the repetition in “overflowing, drooping, dripping” and all the letter p sounds. Then, love how you used basket as a verb. I read Out of the Dust when it first came out and I loved it. Thank you.
Oooh, drooping and dripping golden ornaments. This is lovely, Margaret!
I had not idea that satsumas grew in Louisiana. The easy-to-peel goodness makes them my favorite! I too love that “overflowing, drooping dripping” line. It reminds me of our peaches in UT this past summer.
I read Out of the Dust (of course, a gal from OK with a mom who lived through the Dust Bowl would read it), and had it read to me in a graduate course. You make me want to pluck it off the shelf for a reread.
Thanks. I love teaching it. Even though it’s a tough topic.
Oh I love “basket” as a verb. Yes! And I love OUT OF THE DUST–truly one of my favorite verse novels of all time.
I still recommend Out of The Dust, a good part of our history that is great for kids to know. And, when I can get them, love satsumas. Your poem and having a real tree near makes me jealous, Margaret! I love “the tree is full, overflowing, drooping, dripping”!
Thank you for this, Margaret. Like others have said, your unexpected verbs are a wonderful surprise. I just pulled Out of the Dust off my shelf to reread. It is filled with post-its and comments. Looking forward to seeing how my younger self reacted and what new discoveries I can make.
Okay, first—you have a SATSUMA tree in your back yard?!?! I really must come and visit your foreign clime someday soon. Second, I love how you verbed “spiders web” and “invite me to basket”– that’s a little technique I must do more with. Third, you are wise to focus on something so golden and beautiful for a minute. That’s how we’ll get through.
This poem is beautiful…how it turns web and basket into doing words is lovely. I’m unfamiliar with this fruit so it’s a nice glimpse into another place for me. I hope you get to enjoy lots of satsuma snacks today. Have one for me, please!
How lucky you are to have such deliciousness (literally!) in your own back yard!!
Oh, yummy. Those oranges sound delicious and beautiful, and in your own yard! I just started reading The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah, which is also about the Dust Bowl. I’ll watch for your post about Louisiana’s climate crisis in the future. I love that we get to see into your classroom, so often, but today as you wrote about beauty inspired by Karen Hesse. Lovely.
Margaret, it is soothing to imagine golden ornaments of autumn dripping from trees. What a gift to have your students join you in seeking beauty!
Lovely poem and photo. I want reach out and grab one and smell its sweet fragrance. When I taught 5th grade in NYC, we read Out of the Dust. I love that book – so sad, but so much resolve and strength.
I just want to come sit by that tree for awhile – and maybe sneak a fruit or two. Yum!
Thanks for joining this week’s roundup with such a delicious poem.