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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

I just got off the phone with my mother-in-law who asked me if I was bored yet.  I laughed.  Well, I did clean the grout on the bathroom floor.  Does that mean I’m bored?

Actually, my summer list is long and growing.  This morning I accomplished one of my goals, blueberry picking.  I do this every year the week after school gets out because this is the time when the blueberries ripen.  In 2014, I wrote a poem about this ritual that begins with…

Some things wear their becoming,
like this blueberry, for example,
plump and perfectly indigo
surrounded by pinky-red brothers and sisters,
it boasts to be chosen
falls easily into my palm
joyfully plinks the plastic bucket.

See the rest of the poem here.

My friend Suzanne came along.  She couldn’t believe she had never done this before.  It was fun to share the joy of fresh blueberries with her.  Here is the Facebook page for Bayou Blues Blueberry Farm. 

A Painteresque view of me picking blueberries.

A Painteresque view of me picking blueberries.

Blueberry sky

Blueberry sky

Kitchen brightened by fresh fruit and fresh flowers.

Kitchen brightened by fresh fruit and fresh flowers.

Slowing down, enjoying simple things, and savoring summer days.  No, I’m not bored yet.

 

 

 

 

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Julie at The Drift Record

Poetry Friday round-up is with Julie at The Drift Record

 

 

Photo by Kim Douillard

Photo by Kim Douillard

 

The Butterfly

touched my outstretched hand
for only a millisecond,
yet left behind
a tingle

on my sensitive,
scarred skin.
I kept my arm
outstretched
waiting,

watching
this fluttering yellow kite
dart through the goldenrod
Daddy grew from seed.

How could he have known
when he sowed and watered
that at this moment
when I needed it most

A butterfly would
leave Joy
on my outstretched hand?

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Reflection: Yesterday, I wrote about touch.  I saw this amazing photograph on Kim Douillard’s post this morning.  All day the gift of touch has been on my mind.  Even the slightest touch of a butterfly can wrap us in a moment of Joy.  What else is there?

 

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Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

The school year has ended for me. The end isn’t a celebration for me. I try to feel excited about summer, but my heart is hurting. I miss my kids. I wonder what they are doing. I miss our daily connection. I hear their voices in my head. Eventually this fades, and I fit into my days like they were meant for me.

This weekend in order to tender the depression I know is coming, I traveled home to my parents’ house on the lake. This is a beautiful place to reflect, read, and relax.

Canada geese

While at the lake, these Canada geese hatched five goslings.

Teachers need this time as much as our students do. Time to not worry about the next lesson or the necessary evaluations. Time to look out at nature and just be present.

This is my intention: Presence.

My other intention is professional reading. I have started Katherine Bomer’s book The Journey is Everything. What I love about this book is Katherine writes as if she is speaking directly to me. Her tone is easy and conversational as she marvels in the wonder of the essay. I think her book will transform me personally as a writer as much as it does me as a teacher. The very things I love about writing this blog, writing to know what I’m thinking, is central to her theory about essaying. I grabbed the following quote to keep.

Students need essays

In order to read with more intention, I will be joining a book study group. Let me know in the comments if you want to join us. I am planning a Twitter chat with Katherine Bomer for later in the summer, so stay tuned.

If you have written a DigiLit blog post this week, please click the link below.

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for March Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for March Slice of Life Challenge.

Emerging from 30 days of poetry, words eluded me.  I looked outside for inspiration.  With my camera in hand, I captured the natural meaning of the word saturated.  

Reflections in the flood by Margaret Simon

Reflections in the flood by Margaret Simon

 

After three days of incessant rain, I am saturated.
The ground below is just a shadow.
My words are hiding there.

Resurrection Fern by Margaret Simon

Resurrection Fern by Margaret Simon

Fern glistens in the emerging sun.
Beauty finds me
speechless.

Lizard face-off by Margaret Simon

Lizard face-off
by Margaret Simon

Like these lizards,
face to face
puff up and show their true colors,
I dive back in,
searching for the light.

Bayou Sunspot by Margaret Simon

Bayou Sunspot
by Margaret Simon

When I am not even trying, poetry finds me.  In reflection of her month-long poem-a-day writing, Violet Nesdoly posted this quote from Annie Dillard.

Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes. – Annie Dillard

 

I turn to poetry when I feel inadequate.  When I’m not sure what to write, creating a verse moves me forward.  So here I am again, no challenge, no poem-a-day, just me, opening the page,  and giving freely, so my writing will not turn to ashes.  

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NPM2016

 

dragonfly eyes by Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

dragonfly eyes by Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

 

Rest your agile flight
on a sunbeam, look about

with dragonfly eyes.

 

While I was attempting to get a photo of bees that are extremely active in a flowering tree, this dragonfly lit upon an African iris.  I had the telephoto lens on.  I was so excited that I captured such an amazing close-up.  So clear I could see the eyes of the dragonfly.

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NPM2016

Magnolia

Magnolia

Heading outside for some well-needed Vitamin N; Kim Douillard posted about this necessary vitamin here, and invited us to post photos from our outings. So this post with be a photo ode as well as a poetic one.

To the tune of the lawnmower
and the cardinal at the birdbath,
April harmonizes
and paints the air
with buzzing bees
and wispy contrails.

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow flowers

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow flowers

April celebrates Cathy’s birthday;
She shows me how to
stop and smell the flowers.
She names them for me:
“Yesterday, today, and tomorrow
is deep purple yesterday,
violet today,
and white tomorrow.”

pineapple guava

pineapple guava

April holds a pineapple guava
ripe with red nectar
while the cashmere bouquet
hides its treasure
beneath wing-like leaves.

cashmere bouquet

cashmere bouquet

April rains make a gentle waterfall
of a mere coulee, a watering hole
for passing dogs in the park.

flowing stream

April is as I imagine heaven,
bright with new light,
flowing on the breeze
a kite with strings
made of flowers.

Japanese plum tree

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Discover. Play. Build.

Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.

NPM2016

Marilyn Singer is a master poet. At NCTE in the fall, I had the pleasure of meeting her. I was also a lucky participant who won a copy of Follow, Follow. Marilyn invented the reverso poem and has published 3 books of them, two based on fairy tales and her latest Echo, Echo based on mythology.

On Today’s Little Ditty, Michelle Heindenrich Barnes interviewed Marilyn Singer and offered a ditty challenge to use the word echo in relation to a poem. I was determined to try the reverso form.

With my students as cheerleaders, I worked hard and produced something worthy of being called a reverso poem. The process began when we watched this video together.

I asked my students to select an insect to be in a mask (or persona) poem. I selected this image to inspire my writing.

screenshot from the film Microcosmos by Jacque Perrin.

screenshot from the film Microcosmos by Jacque Perrin.

Then I did some caterpillar research. I wrote “zig zag stitch” and then discovered that caterpillars excrete a silk line as they crawl in addition to using the silk to create a chrysalis.

Creepy crawly caterpillar
munch munch
munching milkweed
at tremendous speed.

Life changes
slowly
creeping, crawling
leaf to leaf.

Sunlight glimmers
on fuzzy bristles.
I zig-zag stitch
a silkthread path
leaf to leaf.

Leaf to leaf
a silkthread path
I zig-zag stitch
on fuzzy bristles.

Sunlight glimmers
leaf to leaf.
Creeping crawling
slowly.

Life changes
at tremendous speed.
Munching milkweed
Munch, munch
creepy, crawly caterpillar.

This is a tough form to get just right. I don’t think mine successfully creates a different meaning in reverse. But my students liked it, so I am celebrating it none the less.

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NPM2016

Last week I led myself and my students into image poems.  We imagined a scene in nature (or on water) and wrote to this list of line prompts from the River of Words Teacher’s Guide. 

Prompts for the Teacher:

~ Think about this spot. Sketch it if you like.

~ Picture yourself in this location.Write a line or sentence that describes what you are doing and exactly where you are: “Sitting on a sandbar on the banks of the Calcasieu River in IndianVillage, Louisiana.”

~ In your imagination, look up.What do you see? Begin this line with “Above me” or “Over my head.”Try to use a simile in this line.

~ Now look into the distance, as far as you can see.Write what you see.

~ Describe a sound you might hear in this place.

~ What is on your right?

~ Hone in on a single detail in this scene.Try to describe it, using an unusual or vivid verb in the line.

~ Shift your perspective and your position—stand up, flop down, walk away—and notice another detail in the landscape: the quality of light, the time of day, a seasonal plant or animal,for example.

~ Finally, read over your images and see if you can conclude with a reflective line that somehow captures how you feel about being in this place.(You might caution students not to rush this line; it may occur to them later as they compose their poem).

rope swing

Swinging by the bayou on the grandmother oak,
legs curled around knotted rope,

Above me branches drape like outstretched arms
holding strong,

Sky opens up to a flash of egret flickering through the trees.

The echo of a far-off motor drums the quiet.

The holding tree is the oldest oak I know.
Hanging moss twirls in a wind-dance.

Jumping from the rope-grip,
my feet fall on fronds of greening fern.

My swinging is a brief sparkle in this grandmother’s eye.

–Margaret Simon

Here is Vannisa’s poem.  She pointed to a postcard from Marjorie Pierson’s collecting of wetlands photographs as her inspiration. Click here to view the image.

Standing in the shade,
on the edge of a swamp
where there are cypress trees
with snakes and alligators
lurking within the waters

Over my head,
thick branches and leaves
sway over me as a roof,
with moss dropping down
like the strings of balloons
that fly to the ceiling

In the distance
more trees and gators are
still creeping underneath

Insect buzzing
filling my ears,
the tweets of birds
travel from above

On my right,
a tree trunk
with bugs crawling in a line
making their way up and around

Mother duck and her ducklings
swim all over
yawing around places where
mother knows it’s unsafe

Moving away from the shade,
the water reflects
the afternoon sun into my eyes,
glistening in the light

This artistic landscape
won’t be able to stay forever,
you won’t notice it,
but the wetlands are quickly washing away.

–Vannisa, 6th grade

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NPM2016

Day 5 is with Liz today. Click here.

Day 5 is with Liz today. Click here.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

For Spiritual Thursday, we are reflecting on the word “Merciful” today, Bobbie Ann Taylor’s One Little Word.

foggy sunrise

A Merciful Cinquain

Failure
clouds my vision
like fog in the morning
drapes the coming sunshine in
mercy

Every morning I drive to my school in the country while the sun rises.  I am often in awe of the way the light plays in the sky.  This image of fog covering the sun made me think about my feelings of failure.  These are natural, I suppose, as a teacher who cares deeply for her work with children and as a writer putting her words out to the world every day.

Liz Steinglass inspired me to use a cinquain form (2, 4, 6, 8, then 2 syllable lines.)

One tenet of faith that I have trouble grasping is mercy.  We are already forgiven even before we ask it.  When I fail, I tend to wallow in self-doubt.  I need to repeat the mantra I am worthy until I believe it.

“Surely goodness and mercy will follow all of my days.  I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23

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NPM2016

napo2016button2

Day 4 is at Random Noodling with Diane

Day 4 is at Random Noodling with Diane

I first “wrote” this poem by speaking to my phone in the notes app. I didn’t start with a photographed image. If I could have, I would have taken a picture of the heron, but as we watched the scene, my cat snuck out and scared it off.

Instead I took a picture looking up at our church.

Church spire

Sunday

On this day
I have plans,
compartments in my mind
like squares on the calendar.

But first, I look out
at the heron on the bayou.
He stretches his neck
into the bright morning sun.

I sip my warm coffee,
listen to the news,
the call of the mourning dove.

I will worship today
stick my neck out long
to catch the rays of the sun,
listen to an orchestra on the lawn.

–Margaret Simon

Here is a link to a padlet from JoEllen McCarthy from The Educator Collaborative with links to great #PoetryLove sites.

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