Here in the deep south, live oak trees are iconic. This root is old and has emerged over time from the ground. I took notice of its unique design. As no two humans are exactly the same, I imagine trees have their own personalities, too.
I started the year 2024 with writing daily elfchen. For this Advent season, I’ve picked up the form again. Here are the rules:
Grounded Roots revealed Begging us hear The true language of Connection Margaret Simon, draft
Join me today in writing to this photo prompt. Come back to offer encouragement to other writers.
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…)
For Fall break, my husband and I visited Niagara Falls. This trip was a bucket list item for me. The Falls did not disappoint. They are an amazing feat of nature, the kind that cannot be captured in a photo or video. You have to be there to hear the sounds of hundreds of thousands of gallons of water falling each second. I took a lot of pictures, but when I look at them now, they pale in comparison to the real live event. I’m so happy we did this trip. I highly recommend it. If you are planning to go, let me know. I have suggestions.
This morning’s Poem-a-Day from the Academy of American Poets was by Emily Lee LuanThe warble of melting snow is the river. I borrowed her form for my own poem. I find that using a form helps me get out of my head and allowing creativity to do its magic.
The chant of rocks is the falls (after Emily Lee Luan)
is the rush of gravity is the impulse of water* is the pull of a mother… child is the everlasting light of the sun is the building of power is the electricity of ages is the reflection of rainbows is the promise of peace is the waking of a dream is the shift of river to fall.
Margaret Simon, draft
When you are inspired to write, please leave your poem in the comments so we can share. Write encouraging comments for other writers.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
My students and I have been looking forward to the National Writing Project’s Write Out, a writing event that takes place in October. NWP partners with the National Parks to create videos and writing prompts designed to get kids outside to write. Last Friday, I handed each student a 5×7 blank book and told them it would be their Write-Out notebook. What is it about having a new clean colorful book that makes you want to write?
After watching a short video from Ranger Chris from the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area, we went outside to the playground to observe nature and write haiku poems. I wrote alongside them. I shared how I sketch in my notebook. Sketching is low-stakes art. Sketching helps to motivate and enhance writing while making their notebooks a safe place to explore.
Back inside, students were enthusiastic about sharing their poems. Because I teach multiple groups at two different schools, we use Fanschool for sharing our writing.
If you have a minute, it would be exciting to my students if you wrote comments on their first ever haiku poems:
Mary Lee has the round-up and we Inklings are posting Catherine’s challenge.
Robin Wall Kimmerer teaches us that “It’s a sign of respect and connection to learn the name of someone else, a sign of disrespect to ignore it…Learning the names of plants and animals is a powerful act of support for them. When we learn their names and their gifts, it opens the door to reciprocity.” Look closely at the flowers, birds, trees, or other natural features in your neighborhood (or if you’re traveling, a new-to-you species) and write a poem about your chosen species. Free choice of format.
Catherine’s challenge for August
I wrote a poem in July. One of those poems that comes out while walking. As I’m sure you’ve heard, Louisiana is experiencing our hottest summer in history. Who knew this was going to happen? Duh, everybody. I just hope the meteorologist who said the extreme heat is keeping the hurricanes away is right, but it’s probably not. The Gulf will heat up and get angry soon enough.
For now I am listening to endless cicadas during the day and tree frogs through the night. And because we haven’t had rain, I’m watering, watering, watering. The good news is sunflowers are blooming in my butterfly garden.
When in July
When in July, the cicadas buzz all day, when tree frogs near the bayou peep through the night, when crepe myrtles brighten sky with pink and pink and pink, when I walk alone and visit the old oak tree leaning toward the ground inviting me to join her in homage to this unceasing humid heat that calls like the cicadas to our spirits to play like children play running through sprinklers, spreading arms wide like dragonfly wings, then July leaves us with sunflower-smiles.
August is for the Sealy Challenge: reading a poetry book each day. Mary Lee shared her list for the first few days. Here’s mine: Day 1: Mary Oliver: A Thousand Mornings (I’ve read this one before and it’s a comfort read.) Day 2: Pádraig Ó Tuama: Poetry Unbound (Reading a chapter a night) Day 3: Jim Kacian: Long After (This is a visual haiku masterpiece!)
I spent the weekend in Ridgeland, MS just north of Jackson. I stayed in a hotel near a lake and walked each morning both for exercise and meditation. I took some video while walking. This morning I wrote a haiku and created a video using Canva.
Today is the longest day…summer solstice. Think about what this day means to you. Add your own small poem in the comments. Please click over to this post about my personal fundraiser for the Alzheimer’s Association in honor of my mother’s 87th birthday.
Happy New Year and Welcome to This Photo Wants to be a Poem. Let the muse take you away for a few minutes to the swamp of Louisiana where Spanish Moss drapes from trees. This week I am using a photo from photographer Henry Cancienne who head out to shoot photos on New Year’s Day when the weather was misty and warm (balmy). Henry’s photographs are featured in my book Bayou Song: Explorations of the South Louisiana Landscape.
Henry takes pictures of both flora and fauna of South Louisiana. Let this photo help you create a small new year poem (perhaps your first of 2023; it is mine). Share your poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.
Mossy branch by Henry Cancienne.
Swamp fairies sprinkled dewdrops to wake up the forest. The new year was yawning.
As Autumn arrives, the arc of the sun shifts. The sky can show us the seasons if we learn to watch. One of my former students, a young mother, lives on a farm where they grow seasonal sunflowers. There’s a crop in the spring and this year, another in the fall. They open up on weekends for “you pick” days. I follow her on Instagram and have a totally romantic view of life on a farm. It must be hard work, especially with the hot, dry days we’ve had this fall. Nevertheless, this image popped up on my feed and I thought it wanted to be a poem.
Welcome to This Photo Wants to be a Poem. Respond to the photo collage with a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments.
I don’t know much about spiders, but orb spiders are out and about doing their thing and making amazing intricate webs. I took the first picture from my front courtyard. The web was huge and glimmering in the sunlight. I couldn’t really capture it with a phone camera. If you look closely, you can see the big black spider in the center.
On my Instagram feed I saw Paul Hankin’s photo of a similar style web. His caption read, “What might you create in your own little corner?”
In my classroom, we are answering “This or That” questions for attendance these days. So I put these images side by side and ask you this or that? Are you the type to hide your masterpiece in a corner, under and away from others who may harm it or misunderstand? Or do you place your art where everyone can see it, if only they stop long enough to notice?
Create a small poem around your thoughts today. Share it in the comments. Return, if you can, to leave encouraging comments to other writers.
By Margaret Simonby Paul Hankins
Weaving in my own corner Ever-winding path Behold a work in progress
This month’s Inkling challenge was mine to create. I invited my writing group to share any poem that they may have written to This Photo Wants to be a Poem prompt. I post a photo prompt once a week on Wednesdays. My photos come from my own iPhone photos or from Instagram friend’s photos, by permission.
I enjoy the craft of writing a small poem. Many of the ones I write bring about some deeper wisdom. Often I surprise myself with these, wondering where they come from. Today I am featuring bird wisdom poems. Nature offers itself to us with its revelation of truth.
Peek in on my Inkling buddies and see what they are doing with this challenge:
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 