I’ve been walking a different route recently and have seen this weird owl in the neighborhood. Let it be your muse today. In the comments, write your own small poem and encourage other writers with your comments.
Today I’ve chosen a tricube form. Three syllables each line, three lines per stanza, and three stanzas.
We haven’t had snow here in south Louisiana, but today on my walk I found a wooly glove missing its owner and these glasses that look like they were intentionally set into the oak tree root. Should I start collecting these items for the possibility of a snowman? Does the tree root have eyes to see? Some deep wisdom?
Having spent my weekend at a picture book writing retreat, everything becomes a possible idea for writing. Today, join me with your imagination and write a small poem in the comments.
I’m sharing a Zeno (8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1 syllable count and the one syllable words rhyme) I wrote a few years ago that I’ve revised to go with this photo.
Enchanted
I follow the enchanted path leading me to unknown trails. I trust, listen as wisdom hails mirrors and sounds of charmed tales.
It is a new year, and I’ve been contemplating whether or not to keep posting photos on Wednesday. I’ve skipped a few weeks and the world keeps going. In 2026, I’ve chosen sacred simplicity as my one little word(s). What can be more simple and sacred than this pure white camellia blossom.
One of the gifts of living in the Deep South is camellias. They are in full bloom this month. People are talking about it. Was it the big freeze last year that brought on the full blooms this year? Nature knows.
If you are feeling a little lacking in the inspiration department, stop by and write a small poem.
My poem draft comes from a word card I chose from Georgia Heard’s newsletter for January, “Quiet” and uses an anaphoric word “Today.” The last line turned melancholic as I have experienced some losses this week.
Today the downy white camellia blooms quietly in the winter yard.
Today the cold spills inside touching my toes.
Today seeds are waiting. My heart is still. Every note from songbirds scratch the surface of morning dew.
Yesterday was a full day of being Mamére with Leo, 7, and Stella, 5. We went on a walk in our neighborhood. There is a vacant lot where a new house will be built soon. They had done some dirt work, so there was a mountain of dirt. In the mud, Albert, my dog, had sniffed out a small snake, thankfully dead.
Being Mamére, I allowed Leo to carry the snake home. He gave it a bath and wanted to show everyone. When I brought them home, he opened his gift from my sister-in-law who came with me specifically to see the kids open their gifts from her.
He opened a huge set of paint markers and a new art tablet and immediately drew this illustration. He also wrote this story.
Leo’s writing, age 7 (1st grade)
Of course, he made this writer grandmother proud. Today, I am pulling from his writing a small poem. The elfchen form includes 1 word topic, 2 words, what topic does, 3 words, where or how, 4 words, what do you mean, and 1 word, outcome.
Snake Lay dead dug from earth a young boy’s buried treasure
Margaret Simon, draft
Please join me today in writing a small ekphrastic poem. Have a wonderful holiday! Thanks for being a dedicated reader and writer.
Finding writing inspiration in the murals of Denver, this one took me two days to write, so I am posting on Thursday (rather than Wednesday) with a note about my process. I am experiencing some frustration with writing these days.
Yesterday when I looked at this image, I wrote “Her braid/ like a river/ binding her/ to the land.” I waited to see if something more would come to me.
Today I decided to play more with syllables and consider different articles (a river or a desert?) (binds her to her land or this land?)
I typed up the post and came back to it later. Sometimes the smallest of poems pose the hardest challenge.
Her braid, blue like sky, like river in a desert binds her to this land.
Margaret Simon, draft
If you find inspiration in this image, please write a small poem in the comments. Support other writers with your responses.
After NCTE, my Inkling friend Mary Lee also stayed in Denver as a tourist. She sent me some of her photos of murals. I chose this one today to pair with Georgia Heard’s prompt “Write about a sound in nature that calms you.”
In my Wordle attempts this morning, I used the word “flame.” The line of hot pink at the bottom of this mural reminds me of the burning of cane fields that happens this time of year.
When you write today, can you find a word to use in a new way, playing with metaphor?
Morning wakes with the call of barred owls hooting up a flame of grass fire filling this day with sweet light.
Last week in Denver I took pictures of murals. They were everywhere. Today for this photo I chose this beauty.
Georgia Heard offers a monthly prompt calendar. Today’s prompt is to write 5 small things you are grateful for. After a very full Thanksgiving weekend, I am enjoying the silence of this cold morning.
Morning quiet
Warm poodle on my lap
Fog on the bayou
Sleep
Writing
In gratitude, I offer this small poem. Please consider writing your own small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with your responses.
In her silent reverie, she doesn’t notice the squirrel on the ground lifting a tiny petal she dropped, joining her in gratitude.
I am happily home and cozy after being in Denver for a week of busy (NCTE) and, after Jeff came, walking. We clocked over 20,000 steps on Monday.
Today I am taking a day off before my family comes for Friday Thanksgiving. I wanted to take this opportunity to thank the poetry community, so wonderfully kind and generous. Some of you I hugged and talked to at NCTE. Others of you stop by this blog and give support through comments. Reflections on the Teche (pronounced Tesh) is my happy place because of you, my readers.
Today’s photo is a crochet-wrapped tree. I’m using a free verse form today following a prompt from Joyce Sidman after her book Dear Acorn, Love, Oak: a compliment, a question, and a wish.
A Tree that Grows in Denver Single crochet, double crochet, cluster-hills & valleys, green, pink, purple blooming round a tree that juts from concrete. Your colors give warmth when times are tough. Will you twirl with me? I hope your dancing colors fill the gloom with bright like a vine that’s lost control and only seeks the light. (Margaret Simon, draft)
Early morning is prime fishing time for egrets and herons on the bayou. It is rare that I can get a photo. I have to walk lightly and hope Albert doesn’t bark. This was a lucky shot.
I will be presenting at NCTE this week. In the roundtable presentation with Ethical ELA (3:30 on Friday, Rm. 108, 110), I will be discussing creating Zeno zines. A Zeno poem is one in which the syllable count is 8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1. The challenge is each one syllable line rhymes.
This Photo is a place for first drafts. Please consider joining me and writing a poem draft in the comments. Support other writers with your comments.
Morning is bayou fishing time flashy bright white egret shines reminding me how love dines on memory, sacred signs. (Margaret Simon, draft)
For now, the super moon’s hidden in the daylight. For now, our canoe reaches for the sun. For now, bayou waters are chilled by the wind.
Even now, I feel your strength in the rowing. Even now, I believe our source is love. Even now, my choice is stay.
Margaret Simon, draft
I took this photo on a recent canoe paddle on Bayou Teche. We laughed at the new sign, but a silly poem didn’t come as I wrote. In my notebook, I had written the repeated line “for now” and “even now” and wanted to play around with it a bit.
I invite you to write what comes today. Please leave a small poem in the comments and encourage others with your comments.
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.