a sweet, savory, crunchy slice of haiku:
This is a real thing.
That is all for today, folks.
I know. You’re welcome.
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March.
an epistolary pantoum, to mark the occasion
Dearest Micah:
I write these lines
while you’re sleeping,
first time in my keeping.
I write these lines
having rocked you to sleep,
first time in my keeping,
listening to you breathing.
Having rocked you to sleep,
these moments, ever sweet,
listening to you breathing
—I am complete.
These moments, ever sweet
while you’re sleeping.
I am complete,
dearest Micah.
My precious Micah, 4 mos. 3/7/2022. #FrannaMagic
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March.
To write a pantoum, use this line sequence:
1234 2546 5768 7381
a bit of palindrome written to a picture worth much more than a thousand words,
maybe even a thousand infinities, to me
Always
remember how much you’re loved
my child
and child of
my child
remember how much you’re loved
always.
My oldest son and his baby girl, Micah.
He named her. Micah means “Who is like God?”
Answer: No one, no one, no one…
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children… Psalm 103:17
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March.
The bird at the roadside sat
day after day after day
by the body of his lifetime mate
after she passed away
The naturalist saw him there
day after day after day
’til finally with some rotting meat
she lured the bird away
You must carry on, old boy
carry on carry on carry on
a marvel, how you honor your mate
when she’s carrion carrion carrion
Dedicated to the local buzzard who mourned his dead partner by the roadside. Until this story reached me, I didn’t know that turkey buzzards mate for life. I’ve since learned that they lack vocal organs…they cannot call or sing or cry. They can only grunt and hiss as they go about the humble work of cleaning up carcasses…but not, apparently, those of their mates.
Photo: 11 Turkey Buzzard Pittsboro NC 9425. bobistraveling. CC BY 2.0.
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March. This is my sixth year participating.
Haiku in Honor of My Six-Year-Old Granddaughter
Whose Favorite Color Is Green
Riding in the car
I muse aloud: Look how green
the fields are today.
From the carseat: Yes.
Greenest green I’ve ever seen.
—Children are poets.
Photo: The sunset of the green field. Bardia Photography. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March. This is my sixth year participating.
a bit of haiku
My colleague’s great-aunt
had a phrase for anyone
with nose out of joint:
Oh, they’ll be all right
after the swellin’ goes down.
—you gotta hope so.
an acrostic
The Artist’s Inner Dialogue
Today is a
Happy day
I feel it as I
Skip along the sidewalk
I feel like making
Something beautiful with
All kinds of colors
Red orange yellow green blue
And my favorites,
Indigo and violet…
Now I leave my happy beautifulness
By way of chalkdust
Or maybe fairydust
Where you can find it, too
Photo: Margaret Simon. “This Photo Wants to be a Poem,” Reflections on the Teche.
Thank you for the inspiration, Margaret.
Pleasant evening drive
after a taxing workday
heading to supper
ahead, in the road,
a little creature trotting
like some kind of cat
I said, What IS that?
I can’t tell, said my husband
so sphinx-like, it was
long, low, and silver
big pointy ears, feline grace
canine whiskered face
—oh! we cried, a fox!—
as it vanished, phantom-like,
in the shrouding woods.
We’d have known it right away, had it been red. We see those occasionally. Gray foxes are actually native to the area, however; the red fox didn’t appear in this part of the country until the 1800s. I cannot recall having seen a gray fox before. It was small and lovely, with a grizzled silver coat so prized by hunters. These are the only foxes that can climb trees.
I wonder where our enigmatic gray fox was going on its jaunt along the woodland road just before dusk…and how many more of its kind are about, in the secret places…
Photo: Gray Fox. Keith Wescourt. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Nothing shakes the smiling heart.—Santosh Kalwar
a pantoum
Nothing shakes the smiling heart
not loss, not fear, not pain
the heart-smile shines ever bright
even in the rain
Not loss, not fear, not pain
despite tales of gloom and doom
even in the rain
the smiling heart does not consume
Despite tales of gloom and doom
it needs no teeth, for
the smiling heart does not consume
while beating its joyful tune
It needs no teeth, for
the heart-smile shines ever bright
while beating its joyful tune
—nothing shakes the smiling heart.
with thanks to Ruth at SOS-Sharing Our Stories: Magic in a Blog for the Kalwar quote along with the invitation to consider a smile and write about it. Note that in addition to the usual definitions of ingesting, buying, using, etc., “consume” can also mean “perish.”
On the last day of the February Open Write at Ethical ELA, Britt Decker invites participants to write a poem based on a picture book, taking inspiration from beautiful lines, illustrations, or theme.
My little acrostic is inspired by Inky’s Amazing Escape: How a Very Smart Octopus Found His Way Home, by Sy Montgomery (a true story).
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The Long-Reaching Tentacle of Adaptability
“Sometimes the keeper gave Inky toys. Inky liked to take apart LEGO blocks, and put them back together. He liked playing with Mr. Potato Head. One time, with his suckers, he pulled off Mr. Potato Head’s eyes and handed them to the starfish in his tank.”
Once upon a time, a
Child yearned
To understand why
Others seem such a
Puzzle
Until she learned
She didn’t have to solve them.
From Inky’s Amazing Escape: How a Very Smart Octopus Found His Way Home, written by Sy Montgomery, illustrated by Amy Schimler-Safford. Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, New York, 2018.
I am in awe of octopuses. Inky’s story is etched on my heart. There’s something so poignant to me in his giving Mr. Potato Head’s eyes to the starfish.
lit bits and pieces 