Last Saturday I watched the Teacher Poet Google hangout with Chris Lehman and some brave teacher poets. I sat and watched hours after the initial broadcast, and did the lesson. I watched. Stopped the video. Listened again.What a great way to learn. Check out last week’s work and this week’s assignment here and join Chris this Saturday for a great workshop experience.
Writing and the workshop is helping me define what poetry is for m now. It is something that pulls at my heart; it crystalizes the essence; it highlights what’s necessary and worth holding on to.
I tried out Week #1’s strategy of finding a sliver in a big important topic. A really terrific strategy for any kind of writing. This is a draft and I’m not sure of the title.
The door opens and cool air, the cat, and noise rush in.
Sounds move past and fill the kitchen.
Bursting, until it leaves quiet.
I heard a whisper of warning just before the shift
towards choices,that are no longer mine to make.
It moved past me with just a whisper warning:
it’s no longer my decision where and how to place the pieces.
The furniture shifted leaving empty spaces uncovering indentations of what was there.
Children no longer, they’re out the door, a photo flash resides in their place.
Thank you fellow poet bloggers who are reaching for more in their lives and in their teaching. It’s nice to journey together. Check Leigh Anne, Michelle, Margaret, Kevin, Mary Lee, and Cathy’s blogs for more poetry inspiration.
3 thoughts on “Teacher Poets: Finding a Sliver”
Sounds like a lot of fun. Love this: “a photo flash resides in their place”, like shadow images. Wonderful to imagine, Julieanne!
To me, your poem speaks of our children growing up and we have to let go. Perhaps it is because that is exactly where I am right now. “Choices, that are no longer mine to make.” “Photo flash” of the times we’ve shared together.
Your poem is the opposite of Laux’s “On the Back Porch” and it perfectly captures the bittersweet feelings we have as we realize our children are growing up and are ready to begin their own lives. I love this image of shifted furniture “leaving empty spaces uncovering indentations of what was there.” The perfect sliver to capture this big, important topic!