I caught the flicker of feathers out of the corner of my eye. Osprey! And then it dove. Wait, was that an osprey or a pelican? Then up it came with a fish in the talon–a big ol’ heavy fish. Down went the osprey, back into the water. I’ve never seen an osprey tread water–until today. It seemed to be riding the waves, flapping when the wave lifted, an enormous fish still firmly in its grasp. When up didn’t work, the next step was to surf in toward the shore. Using the fish as the surfboard, it glided onto shore. Then took a bit of time to adjust, not risking losing that prize dinner, before lifting off and heading north to find a place to sit and dine on fresh seafood.
I’m always looking for ways that my students can experience the play of poetry, encouraging them to take some risks and express those surprises deep in their imaginations. I have a few tried and true practices that I use year to year like poetry dice and poetry comics. But like my students, I love a bit of novelty, so when I come across a promising new tool or practice, I’m all over it.
One of my colleagues recently introduced me to Ouisi Nature, a set of 210 stunning photo cards of plants, animals, and other natural formations. cropped in interesting ways. Some are extreme close ups, some are super cute animals, some are patterns that leave you guessing. The cards are meant to encourage connections between cards, allowing people to establish categories to sort the photos into.
I introduced my first grade students to these cards as an opportunity to play. In small groups they examined cards, talked about the cards, noticed details, and started sorting them into categories. They enjoyed the photos and puzzled over what some of the photos represented. The next day, I brought the cards out again. This time, I asked students to pick three photos and use them as inspiration for a poem.
Some students were worried at first. I left lots of room–and sometimes all that room just feels scary. I encouraged them to use their imaginations and not worry if the photo was actually what they thought of when they looked at the image. And after a few false starts, poems began to emerge.
S wrote about flowers and also began experimenting with line breaks.
Small Flowers but Mighty
Small purple flowers growing like pople
waking up in the morning with a yawn
flowers will get pollinated by bees and insects
Some flowers might be small but
a lot of them are mighty
P struggled a bit, feeling frustrated by feeling like instead of writing a poem it was story that appeared on the page. But perseverance paid off with this beauty.
Glittering eyes like a black sun
shining in the sky with reflections
from down below
H went in the science direction with maximum energy.
Blue energy dots like the sun
charging us all up so blue so read powerful
like waves CRASHING on to the ocean
L’s poem took me back to my recent Hawaii trip.
Hawaii
Hawaiian flowers dance like hula dancers bringing joy
and happiness to others making more and more people
happy
And yes, of course I wrote with my students! I’m not sure I got finished, but I love that the photos took me in a direction I don’t think I would have found on my own.
How do you encourage playfulness with poetry and writing with your students or with yourself? Feel free to share lessons, ideas, and resources in the comments!
Playing with form when writing poetry is always interesting. Today’s Verselove prompt introduced a poetic form called a cascade. (Check out the Verselove post for more details.)
I love the native giant kelp (macrocystis pyrifera) that grows in our coastal waters. It’s know for its fast growth–up to a foot a day–in ideal conditions. Unfortunately, conditions are not so ideal these days. As our water temperatures rise, kelp struggles. And like a forest on the land, a kelp forest supports an entire ecosystem. Some piles on the beach are normal, but too many piles ignites worry about this special place. I’ve been teaching my young students about this unique algae for years…and have fallen in love with its special qualities. Maybe I’ve illustrated some of them in this cascade of a poem.
On my neighborhood walk after school today I came across a message that made me pause. I took out my phone for a photograph. And it’s still on my mind.
First of all, this was not there yesterday. I walked this same path yesterday, could I have missed it? (I walk this same path frequently and have never come across it before!) I love that it is written neatly–maybe in a paint pen? REBELLION is in all caps and triple underlined. The yellow is perfect, bright enough but not obnoxious. Near the community mailboxes, but not too close.
What does it mean for kindness to be an act of rebellion? I’m struck by the contrast with the way our current government acts. The contrast between kindness and war, kindness and threats, kindness and taking children from their families, kindness and lying. I’d love to believe that kindness could cure so many of our societal ills. At least, it might be a starting point. My colleague reminded me today (before I saw this message on the sidewalk) that she tells her kindergarten students, “Be kind or be quiet.” It is kind to stand up for what is right. It’s not kind to call names and diminish your classmates. (There is a bigger message there when it comes to grown ups.)
So, what about a poem for today? Verselove invited a haiku (17 syllables) about taxes. I think instead I will try my 17 syllables about a kindness rebellion.
Deceptively benign to view, sea flowers blossom in the harsh environment of the tide pool. These beautiful flowers are actually sea anemones, described as “predatory marine invertebrates,” animals designed to paralyze their prey with their venomous tentacles. These carnivorous chameleons sometimes cover themselves in shells—looking like sprinkle-covered donuts rather than fierce, long living sea life. I love to photograph them, noticing the ways their colors change with the light and water, and reveling in their resilience.
Raindrops kissing my cheeks as I walked the beach this afternoon. Life-giving water from the sky, promised yesterday, arrived today. Will we get enough to be more than a light caress?
Immersion in a novel…making it hard to set aside to take up today’s must dos. I keep picking it up, puzzling through the story, and reminiscing about time in warm water, watching sea turtles swim, and the sweet and sour taste of lilikoi from my Hawaii experiences. (Pick up Bones of Hilo by Eric Redman if you want to know more)
Sister time. Four miles side by side, words spilling about all the things and nothing at all. Wind and water, conversation and contemplation, fitness and fun. With a bit of shopping thrown in as the cherry on top.
After I posted Cormorant Convention yesterday, a friend and environmentalist reached out to let me know about the seabird starvation event that is happening in coastal California. Cormorants, pelicans, and murres are being affected–not able to find sufficient fish to keep them healthy. The Verselove prompt this morning was about love (or other abstract concepts or emotions) and worry started weaving itself into my writing brain. (I encourage you to check out the mentor text–both the original inspiration and the one written by Kate.)
I worry about birds
the kind of worry that sprouts wings
and flies close to my heart.
Worry doesn’t limit itself though
it grows round
and orbits the sun.
Can I actually enjoy summer weather
when it comes in February
without the dread of what will come next?
Worry snakes itself around my lungs
keeping my breath shallow.
Am I doing enough for the planet?
Does re-using, re-cycling, re-ducing, composting, picking up trash
I had planned to write about a place I love, the beach, in line with the Verselove prompt. But then during my end-of-the-work-week beach walk this afternoon I noticed a cormorant standing on the beach. Cormorants aren’t really common beach birds and are not regular visitors to our local beach. So seeing them always send a shiver of concern up my spine. I worry that they are sick when I see them on the beach. Of course I took a few pictures and then continued my walk. Then, looking out at the waves (good sized today) I noticed the tons of birds in the water…I thought they would be pelicans. That would be usual. But no, they were cormorants! They bounced with the waves. Some flew by and others were making their way out of the surf and parading toward the beach. It was obviously a cormorant convention! What brought them? I have no idea. Maybe a delicious delicacy in the waters? Or maybe simply a need to commune on the beach or the hope of catching a glimpse of the Artemis II spacecraft on its way to splashdown?
Thinking Through My Lens 