Poetry Friday round-up is with my birthday sister, Julieanne.
THAT WAS SUMMER
Marci RidlonHave you ever smelled summer?
Sure you have.
Remember that time
when you were tired of running
or doing nothing much
and you were hot
and you flopped right down on the ground?
Remember how the warm sun smelled and the
grass?
That was summer.
Read the whole poem here.That was Summer was the first poem for my students to unpack this year. Yesterday was my birthday. (I share the day with two PF peeps, Linda Mitchell and Julieanne Harmatz.) To celebrate my day, we had popcorn. Somewhere online over the summer I saw pictures of a teacher’s classroom eating popcorn and discussing poetry, thus “popcorn poetry.” We started this fun tradition this week.
After reading and discussing That was Summer, I suggested that my students try out the form. Some did. Some chose another form. That’s OK. No requirements, just write what you want to write.
Madison and Jacob both chose to write about the taste of summer.
That was Summer by Jacob
Have you ever tasted summer?
Sure you have.
Remember that time
you rolled in the mud?
That was summer.Remember that time
when you ran into
a field of flowers?
That was summer.Remember that time
when you were so hot
you drank the ocean?
That was summer.Remember that time
when you jumped into
a pile of leaves?
That was summer.
I tried out the form and enjoyed finding my own memories of summer.
That was Summer
after Marci RidlonDo you miss summer?
Sure, you do.
That easy time
when days are long,
the sun shines on and on.Remember the time
when you chased the mosquito truck
in a cloud of toxic dust,
your father spanked you
for the first and last time?
That was summer.Remember the time
when you gathered all the blankets, sheets, and pillows,
and built a fort in the living room,
an indoor camp-out with Karen and Ralph?
You shined flashlights and made the shadows dance.
That was summer.Remember the time
when you lay awake
in your parents’ bed
waiting for the hurricane?
You whispered Is it here yet,
and wondered where all the birds and squirrels hid.
That was summer.Remember the time
you waited for the sound of the sno-cone truck,
when Mary Had A Little Lamb
echoed over and over,
and you couldn’t help humming along?
Remember watching the sno-cone man
pour the syrup over ice
in rainbow flavors, strawberry, lemon, and bubblegum,
a trio of colors on your frozen tongue?
That was summer.–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
Reflections on the Teche 