This is a difficult time. My father had a stroke last week and is not recovering in the earthly sense. We’ve held holy vigil with him. It’s holy, healing, and horrible all at the same time. This photo is my mother and father’s hands.
I wrote this poem after Lucille Clifton from an Ethical ELA prompt. I know that this is a universal experience for some. Write a small poem in the comments and respond to other poets.
Wishes for Dad
i wish for peace and a place to write his thoughts on a cloud floating above all this madness of machines pumping oxygen taking pulse counting heartbeats
i wish for the smell of an open field of wildflowers where he can run free
i wish i wish i wish i could take the cup of suffering away.
It’s festival season and most of them are back from a long Covid break. All week I introduced different poetry forms to my students. They could choose their own topics. Coincidentally two chose to write about upcoming festivals using the dodoitsu form. Dodoitsu is a Japanese form that uses the syllable count of 7,7,7,5. Avalyn, 2nd grade, wrote about the Lao New Year Festival. Avalyn’s family belongs to the Buddhist Temple located in Coteau, a suburb of New Iberia. In the 70’s Laotian immigrants were aided by Catholic Services to purchase land to build a temple. Every year around Easter, the community celebrates the Lao New Year. Avalyn is looking forward to it with enthusiasm. She wrote a cherita here. I’m sharing her dodoitsu.
The Spanish Festival queen is a substitute teacher at our school, so she and her cohort visited the school to promote the Spanish Festival happening this weekend in New Iberia. This beautiful crocheted canopy is on display downtown.
Crochet Canopy in downtown New Iberia
Chloe was prompted by the queen’s visit to write her dodoitsu about the Spanish festival.
If you are here for the first time, this post is a weekly photo poetry prompt originated by Laura Purdie Salas as Fifteen Words or Less. This is a place to play with words and interact with other poets. On Ethical ELA this week there were two different Verse Love prompts in which the writer took inspiration from another writer, a word or a line traveled from poet to poet.
Let’s play with this idea of poems communicating with each other. I will start us off. The first person here can take a word or line from me. As always, you may choose to go your own way. That’s fine, too.
Today’s photo is from my friend, first grade teacher Lory Landry. When she isn’t teaching, she is taking photographs. I loved the intimate perspective of this one.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Thirty-four days. Our wood duck hen sat for thirty-four days. We were losing hope, afraid the freeze back in March did it. On Sunday morning I got a text from a bayou neighbor, “Today is jump day for one of our houses!”
“Our duck has been sitting for 34 days. No hatching yet. I’m not sure we should keep waiting.”
“Mine sat for longer than usual.”
So I flipped over to our RIng app. Did I hear cheeping? Mother hen was eating a shell. They were hatching!
You probably want to know how many, but it’s nearly impossible to count when they are little blurry black blobs wiggling.
Monday was Jump Day. It was also a school/work day. We had to rely on the camera. Jeff set up a new Ring camera outside of the house in order to record the jump. Around 10:00, I checked the cameras. Gone. All the ducks had jumped. I missed it, but the camera did not.
As I showed the video to my student, Avalyn, she named the little ducklings. “Come on, Tiffany, you can do it!” she urged as one of the babies hesitated to jump. Avalyn also wrote a poem-song (impromptu) to celebrate Jump Day!
Wood duck, wood duck open your shell. Come out, come out, come out now! Little duck, little duck, quack with your snout. Little duck little duck, little duck don’t you frown Come play in the bayou and make no sound.
Avalyn, 2nd grade
Jump Day, 2022: Watch the lower right corner to see Momma Duck come back to get a wayward duckling.
What a full weekend! The Books along the Teche Literary Festival was held in New Iberia. On Saturday, my friend, artist Paul Schexnayder and I led a children’s workshop. He taught the art part and I led the poem part: Poem Portraits. The kids wrote a bio-poem and decorated a cardboard face with Picasso-esque facial designs.
Student portrait
Outside in Blue Dog Park, there was a children’s authors area, but I decided not to sit and sell books this year. I had a good time supporting my SCBWI friends, hanging out at their tables, chatting and selling their books.
It certainly helped that the weather was probably the best we’ve had all year.
Blue Dog Park was the location of the Children’s Author Tents
For Ethical ELA, Gae Polisner and Lori Landau led the prompt with a suggestion to choose a line from another writer’s poem and create your own poem. They called it Collaboration Inspiration and it was probably the most prolific day for writing so far. Pop over to read the amazing poetic responses and to be inspired yourself. I borrowed my first line from Stacy: “Yesterday I wore only a sweater.”
Yesterday I wore only a sweater Cream-colored comfort in the morning chill. I left it on a folding chair in the children’s authors’ tent where we joyfully greeted a couple from Ohio who loved children and storybooks and the craft of illustration.
A book festival can be an inadequate space, sitting for hours no sales in sight pondering imposter syndrome.
Yet on this April day I dropped my sweater, tossed my discomfort to sunshine and a circle of writers who fed my soul and warmed my shoulders– no sweater needed.
I am participating in Ethical ELA VerseLove. On Saturday, the prompt was given by Emily Yamasaki, a teacher in San Diego. She led us to write a poem after things I have memorized by Maria Giesbrecht. To me, scent is a memory maker, so most of my lines center around smell.
Things I have Memorized (randomly ordered)
The smell of coffee and pancakes on Saturday morning How many turns and stop signs in the circle drive from Beechcrest to Sedgewick Hum-buzz of a hummer at the feeder First words Stench of our house after the flood Sparkle of diamond Scent of his cheek on the pillow Honeysuckle, Sweet olive, and Aunt Alabel’s perfume Recipe for cornbread dressing My childhood phone number (956-2526) The Lord’s Prayer, My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and Itsy Bitsy Spider
Margaret Simon, draft
Hummingbird at the feeder in my backyard. Taken August 30th. Photo by Margaret Simon
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Last week I took my students out to the playground to find photos. I wrote about the activity yesterday. I was surprised by the variety and interest their photos generated. Without any direction, Adelyn straddled the drainage and folded herself in half and took this photo upside down. When I asked if I could use her photo for the poetry prompt, she said, “Be sure to give me credit.” Of course. She wrote this equation poem: Investigation = question + adventure.
Now it’s your turn. What do you see? Write a small poem in the comments. Support other writers with your comments.
Follow your curiosity. Landing among the stones, Explore a mystery.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Laura Shovan is an author-poet-friend who lives in Maryland. She posted this photo on Facebook with the following message:
Bloodwort is one of my favorite #secretgarden plants. They only bloom for a few days in early spring. The dogs (or I) stepped on this flower — rescued and happily in an espresso cup!
Laura Shovan, 3/22/22
I love the idea of a secret garden. I love the book The Secret Garden. When I first moved to the house I live in now, every season I would discover new-to-me plants and flowers.
I also love that Laura rescued this little blossom and placed it on a table in an espresso cup. Something so ceremonial and sacred about that.
Bloodwort is also known as bloodroot because the roots are red. Join me in musing on this photo today. Leave your small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses.
Bloodwort by Laura Shovan
Prayer Grace from her secret garden fell at her feet. She knelt in the still cold earth to notice and return its kindness, placing the small flower in a small cup, like a prayer.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
