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.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This month of February has been rich for my writing life. I’m writing at least one poem a day along with other writers in Laura Shovan’s 10th Annual February Project on Facebook. The theme this year is Time. Susan Brisson posted a prompt that began like this: “Tiny moments in time, brief exchanges with nature, split seconds of seeing something so beautiful, as fast as the flash of your camera or the time it takes for your thoughts to travel from your eyes to your brain. Have you ever had such a moment? Not a life changing moment but a mood changing moment.”
I immediately thought of releasing monarchs. I’ve been raising monarchs in my kitchen since Christmas. We’ve had a few freezes, so I collected them from my own garden as well as a school garden. I had around 20 caterpillars that successfully made 11 chrysalises. Of those 11, 8 have eclosed into beautiful butterflies. They’ve all been males. They have to be released in temperatures above 50 degrees.
One afternoon last week I released two of them onto outdoor plants. When I checked the next morning, they were still there and completely still. One was even flat on the ground. I brought them back into the enclosure in my kitchen. After warming up, they actually revived, but getting them to let go and fly took a bit of coaxing.
Release
The male monarch emerged whole and beautifully designed, contrast of orange and black wings.
On the day of release I gently placed my finger near his tiny legs. He held me so tight my skin tingled. We walked together.
I tried to coax him to fly, but he clung, walking gingerly up my arm. Not ready to let go. Not ready to fly.
I held him on my shoulder like a baby. Then, as a mother knows best, laid him down and let him go.
He flew away. I remember his touch.
Margaret Simon, draft
It’s time to sign up for the Kidlit Progressive Poem for National Poetry Month. The sign up post is here.
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 