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Archive for the ‘Photography’ Category

Mossy Ghost by Margaret Simon

If you have a tree covered in moss, then you must hang a ghost there.

I’ve taken a number of pictures of Halloween decorations thinking about the photo for this week. This one is the winner. In my neck of the woods (South Louisiana), moss covered trees are common. My husband grew up calling it “spooky moss”. It is the common Spanish moss, and on some trees, the stuff practically takes over the tree, even though I’ve read that moss is a bromeliad in the pineapple family and does not harm the tree.

“Many homeowners think that Spanish moss kills their trees. This is not the case because the moss is not parasitic. The only thing Spanish moss uses trees for is support.” University of Florida.

Yesterday as we were writing metaphors for artifacts in nature (#WriteOut), Avalyn created this form:
The (A, An) object in nature
is/is like …
describe how it is like
end with a connection to life

I tried the form when writing about milkweed seeds. I combined it with a prompt from Ethical ELA to write with words from paint chips here.


A milkweed seed
is a great white egret
showing off its lacy wings
to the mirrored pool in the sky.

Margaret Simon, draft

Spanish moss
are stalactites
hanging on a crepe myrtle
hosting ghostly terrormites.
Margaret Simon, draft

Now it’s your turn. You can try Avalyn’s form or use your own. Please encourage other writers with your responses. Happy Halloween!

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by Mary Lee Hahn on the Isle of Harris, Scotland.

Recently I’ve had three different friends travel to Scotland. I think it’s a sign that I am meant to travel there. And, of course “Outlander” on Netflix is my current binge obsession. Mary Lee has been posting daily albums on Facebook of her travels. I chose this one, but they are all amazing. Can’t you just hear the bagpipes and feel the cool breeze?

Let’s travel today in our poems. Where would you like to go? Maybe a stay-cation is all you need. Close your eyes and dream. Please leave a poem in the comments and respond to other writers.

Mary Lee is writing daily cherita poems of one line, two lines, three lines that tell a complete story. So I chose the cherita form.

Scotland calls me

to hear the wind
roar across the sea

and be a traveler
wondering isle to isle
seeking Skye.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

This is Just to Say

I have forgotten
the words
to that song
you sang to me

and which
you are probably
humming in your head
while you sleep.

Forgive me:
I will sing
along with you
anyway.

Margaret Simon, after William Carlos Williams

I believe in daily poetry, but I fell off the Stanford Challenge for writing a poem a day. Lately the new book from Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram, 90 Ways of Community is helping. Each day I present one of the prompts to my students and write alongside them. They are responding so well to this daily practice. I hope you don’t mind if I share a few here. First up is a skinny poem by Grayson.

White void endless space just                                                                       
waiting                                                                                                             
wondering                                                                                                         
no                                                                                                                     
thoughts                                                                                                           
waiting,                                                                                                               
I’m                                                                                                                       
tired                                                                                                                   
of                                                                                                                         
waiting                                                                                                             
in this endless void, white space that is just too empty. 

by Grayson, 5th grade

We’ve explored ourselves and written I am From poems.

I am from
crunching leaves
and windy days.

I am from
books, and books,
and even more books.

I am from the Bayou,
and I am from the
trees.
I come from murky waters
and lush green leaves
and sturdy branches.

I am from
the scratching of
a pen,
and the flick of a brush.

I am from
the smell of
cigarette smoke
and an autumn evening.

I am
from a household,
a household holding
four. 
A mother of books,
a father of autumn,
a daughter of both,
and a sister
of all.

by Adelyn, 6th grade

Each week I invite my students to write to a photograph. They are free to choose their own form even as I model a form for them.

Old tree
Stays in the backyard
Is surrounded by water and ferns
Waiting outside on the porch for the sunrise
Lovely morning

by Marifaye, 5th grade

If you would like to write a poem to a photo, please join me on this blog on Wednesdays: This Photo Wants to be a Poem. I wish for you daily poetry.

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Bayou morning with rope swing, photo by Margaret Simon

I’ve been working through the new book 90 Ways of Community by Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram of Ethical ELA. Daily I’ve been reading a prompt to my students and writing alongside them. Today’s prompt comes from Linda Mitchell. Her original prompt suggests to find a list of words in our notebooks to write along to. Her sample poem is “Wishing Well Price List” which led me to think of the song from the musical Oliver, Who Will Buy?.

I took this photo at sunrise on Sunday morning. Hanging from our grandmother oak is a rope swing. I began to imagine how many people over the years have swung on that rope. My grandchildren don’t have the strength yet in their toddler bodies to hold on, but they love swinging the rope and running to keep it from hitting them, a game they made up.

This photo may take you on a journey to another place in your memory. Let it go and write a small poem in the comments. Respond to others with encouraging words.

Who will buy
this sunglow on water?

Who will buy
the fallsteam rising?

Who will buy
a twist of rope to swing on?

Who will buy
this changing of seasons?
I find a reason to keep my spirits high
wondering who will buy.

Margaret Simon, draft

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My colleague Erica knows I like to raise butterflies. After recess, she came into my classroom exclaiming “You Have to see this moth on the playground!”

My students and I rushed out to find it. At first it was poised on the brick post of the pavilion. Then one of them stimulated it with a stick and it flew to me. Fascinating large creature that is camouflaged as a leaf. Who knew?

With my students, we researched and found out that it was a Pandorus Sphinx Moth. I wrote a found poem from the information on the website Insect Identification. In this poem, each word in the poem comes from the article in the order it was found.

Playground Discovery

Hawk moth
boasts– robust
fast fliers on
aerodynamic wings.

The Pandorus Sphinx Moth
blending in
inside woodlands
at dusk or dawn.

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Chimney Swifts at Sunset, by Margaret Simon

Every evening after dinner, my husband and I take the puppy out for a walk. Last night my gaze was up at the sky watching small birds circle and swoop above us. I opened my Merlin bird identification app and found they were chimney swifts.

The sun was setting and coloring the clouds a deep purple and pink. After a few attempts, I captured some of these “swift” birds against the canvas of the sky.

Write a small poem today inspired by this photo. Please share it with us in the comments and respond to other writers. Thanks for being here.

A Swift Fib

Small
swifts
circle
purple sky
speckling the evening
with dazzling twittering delight
@Margaret Simon, draft

A fib poem has a syllable count that follows the Fibonacci series (1,1,2,3,5,8…)

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Photo by Dani Burtsfield

My friend Dani Burtsfield lives in Montana near Glacier Park. She sent me this photo from a hike she took with Allan Wolf, a poet who was visiting as a presenter for her reading conference. She had taken me on this same hike in the summer of 2018.

I don’t know the specific name for these falls, but I thought a postcard poem would be a good form. This week is Open Write at Ethical ELA and Jeania White led the prompt “Postcards from Places I’ve Never Been”.

Postcard from the Falls

Missing you
as I feel the spray
of cool water
on my face
remembering we took off
our shoes to put our toes in
and spread our arms out wide
to hold a Montana waterfall.

Margaret Simon, draft

Imagine this place on a postcard and write a small poem in the comments. Please respond to other poets with encouraging words.

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Coffee Star by Margaret Simon

When a star appears,
I pay attention–
watch how it spreads
within the crystals of milk
reminding me to notice
daily miracles.
Margaret Simon, draft

Today’s photo prompt is brought to you by my morning coffee. I am no barrister, but I do enjoy heating and frothing oat milk for my morning cuppa. I’ve been to coffee shops and received the gift of a design in the top froth, but this was a pure accident. Not a miracle of great proportions, but a simple reminder to pay attention. As I’ve returned to a daily routine of waking early to get ready for a day at school, I needed this reminder. Find joy. Find delight in the simple things. Know you are loved.

Please write a small poem about a small noticing, a waking up of your mind to something you needed to see. Encourage other writers with your comments.

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Gate, photo by Margaret Simon

This photo is a gate in my daughter’s yard. There is so much lush vegetation around that passing through feels like an adventure, a mystery. When the jasmine is in bloom, the scent itself will entice you to wonder. Join me today on a writing adventure. Leave a small poem in the comments and respond to others with encouraging words.

First day of school--
open the waiting gate
create your own path.
Margaret Simon, draft

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First fig, by Margaret Simon

We were given a fig tree and planted it this spring. We are now harvesting figs! One at a time. My husband joked that we were having our first annual Simon Fig Festival. I served the single fig cut into 4 pieces for our dessert last night. A small, but successful harvest.

Ethical ELA is holding Open Write this week. The first prompt came from Denise Krebs. She reminded me of a form that Jane Yolen created called the septercet. Each stanza has seven syllables and there are 3 lines per stanza. I wrote a septercet about my first fig.

Do you see rain and complain?
Everything wet in your path–
Grass and mud slide to the street.

I watch this single fig-fruit
turn from green to peachy-red
making rain into sweet juice.

You can decide the mood here.
Rain or shine, weed or flower
Fig tree loves enough of both.

@Margaret Simon, draft

You can choose to write a septercet about your own favorite fruit of summer. Leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.

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