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.
I bought butterfly plants in the spring. Spring turned to summer. I watered. They survived. Summer turned to fall. I watered. They survived. On first inspection, I thought my plant had a disease. What weird fungus was growing? I opened Google lens. AI generated a match. Giant swallowtail caterpillars! A little lesson from Mother Nature: Do not destroy what you do not know.
Once I figured out what the alien caterpillars were, I put the plant (rue) inside an enclosure. I am excited to watch this process. I wonder if the chrysalis will stay over winter.
This month, I am participating in the National Writing Project’s Write Out, a program supported by the National Parks. Of course, writing outside can happen anytime of the year. The resources at Write Out are exciting and easy to use. Please join in writing today by leaving a small poem in the comments. What lessons do you learn in nature?
On Monday and Tuesday, my grandchildren had Fall Break. They spent it with me. The fall mornings have been cooler, so we spent the good part of Tuesday morning outside. This photo was taken at Devil’s Pond in City Park. Stella has downy white goose feathers in her hands, and she’s pointing to turtles out in the pond. Together she and Leo are counting the turtles.
One Two Three Four Turtles in the pond. Come walk with me. Let’s feel carefree like turtles in a pond.
Margaret Simon, draft
This month is the National Writing Project’s Write Out, which encourages all of us to go outside to write. Prompts can be found on the Write Out website.
Consider writing a small poem and sharing it in the comments. Support other writers with your responses.
Today is the first Friday of a new month, October, and time for an Inklings challenge. I asked my writing group friends to exchange photos for an image poem. I invite you to participate in image poetry every Wednesday right here with This Photo Wants to be a Poem.
My exchange partner was Heidi. She had the opportunity to visit fellow Inkling, Molly, in Maine this summer. I am quite jealous that they all made blueberry jam together. I could not resist the delicious collection of jars in Heidi’s photo.
Georgia Heard inspired my poem by sending her own recipe poem through her newsletter.
Click on each link below to see other image poem posts from Inklings.
I have been comforted by all of the sympathy notes and messages from this Poetry Friday community over the death of my mother this summer. I appreciate more than ever how this community supports and cares for each other.
In the summer poem swap, organized by Tabatha Yeatts, Denise Krebs sent me two poems, a raccontino and an acrostic of my one little word, Still. She also sent a beautiful crocheted twirly that I’ve hung in my kitchen window.
Still acrostic by Denise KrebsBy Denise KrebsCrochet Twirly from Denise Krebs
My response to Denise:
When a poem comes wrapped in swirls of gold and tied with a ribbon, I open, find, feel myself touching soft grass with my toes finding cool comfort there.
Thanks, Denise, for your comforting words and gift of swirly gold.
My butterfly garden is a wild world of sunflowers and passion vine intertwining with mandevilla and a bottle tree. I would be inclined to trim it all, but it’s interminably hot in August and the butterflies and hummingbirds love it. I am hopeful I’ll see Gulf fritillary caterpillars climbing around soon.
Today, I am offering the elfchen form. This form contains 11 words in 5 lines. (First line: 1 word, second line: 2 words, third line: 3 words, fourth line: 4 words, and fifth line: 1 word.) More about the form can be found on my post for Ethical ELA.
Sunflowers wiggle, wobble late summer breeze yellow as yellow is uplifting
Margaret Simon, draft
I will not be able to comment today as I am traveling. There will not be a Photo post next week. Please write a poem in the comments and support other writers with encouragement.
Summer is winding down. Although, the temperatures remain high. Once again, I turned to teacher-writer-photographer Molly Hogan for a photo prompt. Molly captured this water strider in perfect stride to open up a world. The photo itself is a poem.
It’s a just right day for a haiku. Please consider writing a response poem. Leave encouraging comments for other writers.
Glass pebbles glide below water strider toes tapping into green.
I am feeling uninspired, tired, and sad. Yesterday a dear friend died. Just last week she sent me a sweet card giving me sage advice about the death of my mother.
“I’m sure your emotions must rotate from one to another. I don’t need to remind you to take care of yourself. Sending you positive energy and caring thoughts.” Betty LeBlanc
I’m trying, Betty.
This card featured today came from my Inkling friend Molly Hogan. I’d also like to share a poem that another Inkling, Mary Lee Hahn wrote for me:
And if the darkness is not a hallway, perhaps it’s a bridge a reflection an eye into your soul or into the mystery that comes at the end of a day or a life. Mary Lee
If you are so moved, write a poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your comments. Thanks for walking by.
Today’s roundup is hosted by Jan Annino at Bookseedstudio.
My well has been running dry lately. I could use the excuses that I’ve had a lot on my plate, but the real answer is I haven’t felt much like writing.
When I get this way, it helps to turn to poetry prompts. Georgia Heard sent out a monthly newsletter with a calendar inviting us to write daily tiny letters.
Today, to make myself accountable, I will share two of them from my notebook.
Dear Breath, Find my sorrow. Lift it up. Draw from within a purple flower a single petal remembering how to bloom.
Margaret Simon, draft
My butterfly garden is overflowing with passion vine waiting for the Gulf Fritilary butterflies.
Dear Voice, From your hiding place, come home. Give me strength to know when to say no, when to say yes. Be there as a guide when silence grates on my nerves like the rain clanking through the drain. Wake up, oh voice of mind. Find my comfort zone. Come home.
Margaret Simon, draft
Angel Trumpet (New Orleans)
If you are not familiar with poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, I have found her poems uplifting and accessible. I signed up for a poetry class with her that begins next week. I am hopeful she will put me back in touch with my own voice. She has released an album of spoken word. This amazing and uplifting poem is included. Take a moment to listen.
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.
Reflections on the Teche 