A very special “thank you” to the educators who hosted this January’s Open Write out of pure generosity. We deeply appreciate our volunteer hosts and the care they take in responding to our poems. Thank you, Shaun, Gayle, Glenda, Erica, and Jessica. Please join us February 15-19 with Donnetta, Stacey, Britt, Amber, and Seana! Also, we’d love for you to contribute a blog post about special moments you’ve had with Ethical ELA friends, activities you’ve used in your classroom, or just general sentiments and experiences about ethical aspects of teaching to celebrate our 10th year with Ethical ELA. Sign up here.
Our Host: Jessica Sherburn
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Jessica lives in Chicago where she teaches 12th grade English and hosts Poetry Club at Mather High School. She served as a Representative-at-Large within the Michigan Council of Teachers of English and Teacher Advisory Group Member for the Zekelman Holocaust Memorial Center. In addition to writing, Jessica enjoys hiking, kayaking, and penning sarcastic quips. She is a proud mother to two cats, Ollie and Davie, who enjoy long naps and spilling mugs of black tea.
Inspiration
January is a time for self-reflection, goal-setting, and aspirational thinking–especially in a presidential inauguration year. One poem that I return to again and again is Martín Espada’s “Imagine the Angels of Bread.” Espada writes about an imagined world of empowerment and equity with powerful imagery, similes, and metaphors. The poem begins:
This is the year that squatters evict landlords,
gazing like admirals from the rail
of the roofdeck
or levitating hands in praise
of steam in the shower;
this is the year that shawled refugees deport judges,
who stare at the floor
and their swollen feet
as files are stamped
with their destination.
Process
Make a list of the changes you would like to see in yourself, community, country, or world in 2025. What would a radical reimagining of empowerment and equity look like to you? Consider borrowing Espada’s structure as you draft your poem:
- Line 1: This is the year that _______ (your hope or aspiration comes to fruition)
- Lines 2-5: Provide a concrete description of what this would mean, using imagery (descriptions of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touch) or similes and metaphors.
Repeat this structure as needed for any additional stanzas. Or, write whatever else comes to mind when you imagine the possibilities of a better world!
Jessica’s Poem
Invest in the Promises of our Future
by Jessica Sherburn
This is the year that schools are funded,
that the teacher supply rooms brim with notebooks, pencils, and folders
and the libraries are staffed with kind-hearted professionals
who stuff the shelves with novels and magazines and poetry and manga
without fear of accusations and vilifications.
This is the year when we invest in the promises of our future
rather than the corruptions of our past.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
Hi Jessica,
thanks for hosting and for your lovely poem about libraries. Love those last two lines:
It’s been so great to write with everyone these last few days. Thanks to everyone who hosted, posted and commented.
Playtime
This is a year for play
for going upside down first thing in the morning
for banging out some chords on my keyboard
for long, complicated geeky strategy board games
for drawing shapes and colors like Ellsworth Kelly
for chatty bike rides
for swimming with the cormorants in the cold waters of Barton Springs
Oh, Sharon, good for you. I have enjoyed reading some of the self-care imaginings today. This is lovely, especially that last line. It sounds exotic and fabulous.
Sharon, this was an inspirational poem to read first thing in the morning — thanks for it!
Sharon,
I’m inspired ! I need to do more of those things too, especially the yoga !
Jessica,
Thank you for your prompt and your poem. Your last lines —
“This is the year when we invest in the promises of our future
rather than the corruptions of our past.”
are powerful. I am rooting for them to be fulfilled.
This is the Year!
This is the year that I will consume less and conserve more.
Jimmy Carter it with an extra sweater.
This is the year that I will let my lawn grow a higher.
No mow April to encourage biodiversity
This is the year that I will breathe deeply, sleep longer, let what I can’t control go.
This is the year that I will carve smile & laughter lines around my eyes.
Tammi,
I love every line of this!
What a fantastic ending:
Enjoy your year!
Tammi, what an inspired poem. I love the very specific things that will make this year better and you a good and happy citizen. Just perfect all of it. It’s the kind of poem I wish I would have written.
Tammi, I’m echoing what I said to Sharon above: this was great inspiration first thing in the morning! Loved the verb “Jimmy Carter”ing. And love your commitment to No Mow May and how it reminded me, in the dark of deep freeze winter, that mowing season is just around the corner. 😀
Tammi,
I love this so much!
No mow April…
I believe if you make all of these things happen, those smile lines, and laughter lines will be beautiful.😍
Hi Jessica,
Your poem gives us so much hope. Thank you for hosting us today and inviting us to dream of a better world. I tried to stay positive but it veered a little.
This is the year that I don’t focus on resolutions
This is the year that I seek protection, my #OneWord for 2025
This is the year that will remind me to stay in the present because the future is bleak
This is the year to read more books and less social media
This is the year to nurture my creative skills instead of watching creators create
This is the year that will teach my unborn grandchildren and great grandchildren, what it meant when 92% stood strong but the weak still won
This is the year when my pens will write poetry against oligarchy
This is the year when my ancestors shed tears
and maybe it will rain again
©Stacey L. Joy, 1/22/25
Stacey,
“This is the year that will remind me to stay in the present because the future is bleak” — I really feel this line and agree it is so important to stay in the present. I can definitely get behind this “This is the year when my pens will write poetry against oligarcy.” I’ll write with you!
Stacey,
Big sigh.
Your poem states so clearly the frustrating and frightening situation we are in:
This line really got me:
This line gives me hope:
Hang in there, Stacey and thanks for sharing your poem.
Oh, Stacey…😢I’m so sorry that the world didn’t listen to you and the rest of the 92% strong. It has happened throughout history, and white women failed again this election. It won’t be pretty, but I do hope this year will teach your unborn grandchildren what this means. FAFO as Glenda’s poem today suggests. And those last two lines, wow, Stacey.
Stacey, loved this: beautiful, sad, and heartfelt. I appreciate the commitment to watching less and creating more!
Hi, Jessica! I loved your poem and this prompt. I’m holding out hope for the future depicted in your piece — but I won’t hold my breath! XD
My piece took a slightly different turn, so I just ran with it.
This is the year that whales watch as
sea lions and sharks, sea turtles and stingrays
form a chain of discontent,
nosing ocean trash back onto the shore.
This is the year that songbirds hold out on us,
finding private songs to sing,
naked to the human ear and, perverse,
punish us for pollution.
This is the year that the Earth regurgitates
all of the foulness that we’ve fed it for centuries,
making us eat our words and actions,
showing us who’s boss for a change.
Oh, Wendy, I love the turn your poem took. It reminds me of Espada’s. Impossible, but important. Thank you for speaking for the sea creatures, the birds, and all of Mother Earth.
Wendy,
Your last stanza is the truth! Nature definitely does need to make “us eat our words and actions, showing us who’s boss for a change” and I think with these wildfires and extreme weather it is doing just that. I just wish more people would listen and be better stewards of our world. And now with this administration pulling us out of climate agreements it seems more and more bleak.
Wendy,
I like how you show the sea animals, the birds and the earth itself holding us accountable for the mess
we’ve made. Poetic justice.
Yes, Wendy! This is a mic drop poem! I can almost hear Glenda‘s poem singing through yours, but this time the Earth is saying FAAFO!!! 🤣
This is the year
I might get it together.
Bills will be paid
on time
or early.
I think I might
actually want the worm.
No!
I think I might
actually not be distracted
on my way to get the worm.
This is the year.
Amber,
I liked the whole worm thing, as I thought of it being the early bird, but maybe also a reference to a bottle of tequila. I like how it could be distractions that keep us from that focus. I didn’t really think of that, but I think you are on to something.
Amber,
I love this! The single line “No!” drew my eye immediately. I love a visual shift in a poem.
Here’s to hoping that this is the year you “get the worm,” if that’s is in fact what you want! 🙂
Amber, my thinking went the same way Rex’s did, lol. I liked your poem and could totally relate to it!
Amber,
I hope you catch that worm! Fun poem!
I’m Not Hiding
this is the year
I accept myself
flaws and all—
not gonna flinch
from age spots or wrinkled eyes
my passionate soul will fly
this is the year
I love fiercely,
embracing my fire—
not gonna lie
I’m going to fight like a bitch
for the marginalized and maligned
Barb Edler
22 January 2025
Thanks for hosting, Jessica. Your poem is magnificent, and I want everything your poem shares, especially kind librarians. Your last line is triumphant! Amen!
Amen was exactly my response to your final couplet! Thank you for your poem and your advocacy.
Here’s hoping that you succeed at accepting flaws and wrinkles and age spots. I tell myself frequently that I’m going to do that.
Those culminating lines are golden.
Barb, I enjoy that there are two stanzas here. Simple, but the imagery makes a solid understanding for me. Fight, girl, fight!
Barb, I want to be you when I grow up. You are so strong and brave. I applaud your desire to embrace yourself. You are beautiful the way you are, and I see it every time I read your poems or interact with you. Thank you!
Barb,
I will sleep a little better remembering you are on my side. There is someone saying they will fight like a bitch, and someone doing it…
I love that your fire is you being you, and your fire is the fighting for the well-being of others, those most in need. It will be your year, if for no other reason than your shining.
Oh, yes, Barb. Shout it from the rooftops (or not because this the year for you to choose). And, yes, Barb, I love this “I’m going to fight like a bitch” and I am right there with you!
Sarah
Barb, I loved, loved this!
Barb,
This poem is 🔥🔥🔥! I’m holding you to that line “accept myself” and I’m there w/ you in proclaiming
“I’m going to fight like a bitch
for the marginalized and maligned”
Print this and slap it on a mirror as a daily reminder that you are a badass!
Barb, these are two perfectly paired stanzas. Beautiful and powerful. The first one about your self-care, and then that fierce love fighting “like a bitch / for the marginalized and maligned” was a welcome ending.
I want this too!!!! Let’s do this!
Hugs, Barb!
Barb,
“I’m going to fight like a bitch/ for the marginalized and maligned” — You go, girl! I’ll fight with you!
Barb, your retirement years are going to be well spent…ignoring what can’t be changed…aging …and working for should and could be changed if more join you in the fight. Both males and females! (Get it? 🙂 )
I like how you move from gentle self-acceptance to both
and
Go, Barb!
*Naughty word alert.
FAFO
This is the year
the fuck around
crowd finds out
Glenda Funk
1-22-24
——
Jessica,
Thanks for hosting. Love the prompt and will return to it soon. I have a bunch of deadlines looming, so I’m leaning into the zeitgeist.
Glenda….I’ve been checking this site a lot today, looking for scraps of hope. I am a bit out of the loop and had to look up what FAFO meant and wanted you to know that your poem not only gave me hope it made me laugh out loud. Thank you!
Glenda, this is so good!! I have goosebumps. This Gen Xer is smiling broadly, standing up, and clapping loudly!
Glenda, thank you so much for the “Naughty word alert”. I want this poem on a t-shirt. A perfect meme and a perfectly delivered message. You Rock!
Glenda!!!! YESSSSSSS! Let them find out! It’s the year!
Amén, sista!!! Love, Susie
Glenda,
True dat. The year of the “I told you so” tattoo. Hopefully the pendulum swings back toward our better selves in the long run.
Short but sweet.
Glenda,
What a perfect combination of today’s prompt and Shaun’s from the beginning of the week! Thank you for sharing such a concise but powerful piece. Best of luck with your looming deadlines!
Glenda,
Even the asterisk at beginning feels like part of the poem (maybe as you intended). That mark speaks volumes, but the “fuck” is really the exhale I was looking for.
Sarah
Glenda, this was absolute fire (to steal from another prompt this week).
LMAO at you! Perfect!!!
Oh, yes! Glenda, I read this earlier today before I went out to a meeting and I took it with me, thinking of it several times when I would see or hear about some in that “fuck around crowd”. Yes, I have been praying for them to find out since 2015. I guess it took this! Yikes. Great poem.
Glenda,
This is one of those time when the naughty word is so appropriate. A lot of people are going to be sorry they voted the orange guy back in.
Let’s hope!
This is the year
This is the year that morning wakes before me.
light escapes beneath the edges of my cortinas
and I await evidence from Collins that he too is awake
we may linger or ready and escape into the day morning greets.
This is the year I hold time.
the choices will be mine
to share lunch with friends
catch up on the time
we missed.
to visit with my children to celebrate
birthdays and holidays or just the spaces
we find to join each other.
This is the year I have the choice.
my actions can bring smiles
to those I know when things
aren’t going their way.
my actions can support areas of my community
in need where I can help.
This is the year when I will not stop believing
that there is a way.
Jamie,
This is lovely. It echos some of Bishop Buddy’s remarks yesterday, especially in your commitment to serve others.
Jamie, your poem is both lovely and fierce. I love and admire everything you share here from catching up with friends and spending time with your children. Your ending is such an inspiration. Thank you!
Jamie,
I love your insistence that this will be the year when you have choice. May this year bring you agency and joy! Thank you for sharing 🙂
Oh, Jamie, I want this too!! I don’t know if this is a retirement hint to me or what but it sure does sound like how I want my life to be! The belief at the end is pure love!
There is a way, and I love your empowering poem, Jamie. You have the power, and it is obvious in these stanzas and lines of self-care, service, and love.
Thank you, Jessica for a very powerful prompt. I am not finished with this draft — After reading Espada’s poem, I see the possible directions to take this and will return to it perhaps later this week.
This is the year…
teachers become the most precious gems
praised, raised up in awe as grace under pressure
when miners the world over rush to explore their veins of wisdom
unearth hidden deposits that will ignite a love
for knowledge that leads to truth
This is the year…
entire civilizations will celebrate a teacher’s value
the beauty of their cut, color, their minor flaws,
they will sparkle in light, their light will overcome darkness
they will be a sign – each gem in its unique setting
a promise in sickness or health, to be loved
and honored all the days of their lives
If the world flocks to sit at a teacher’s feet
to learn the secret of their quiet ways
then this is the year.
Patricia,
I sure hope your poem becomes reality. I live in the *gem state* and would love seeing teachers here treat as the gems you imagine.
Patricia, oh my! Your poem is absolutely beautiful and compelling. I love the allusion at the end and all it offers. Outstanding poem! Yes, teachers should be praised and treated like precious gems.
Patricia,
I love your use of the single line “This is the year…” between two longer stanzas. The ellipses kept me in anticipation, excited to read how you furthered your metaphor. I too hope that one day teachers will be treated this way, “minor flaws” and all! Thank you for sharing 🙂
Patricia, amen to this depth of teacher value. I wish each line could be true. What a different society we would have. That last stanza of “flocks to sit at a teacher’s feet / to learn the secret of their quiet ways” is beautifully worded. Yes, let this be the year.
Jessica, we miss you in the MIttens but are glad we can see you at work here. Well, this is the year!!! I seek to have a feature film or film series made of the Robertson Family Christian fiction I’ve published these past three years. It ain’t all that easy!
It Ain’t All That Easy!
This year I’m exploring a new genre
Navigating from my novels to a feature film
I’ve learned it’s not so easy to do this
Especially just on a whim
Novels explain everything in words
Films show it in action or non-action
So, the number of words on a page
Is really just a small fraction
Of what to have in a film scene
Or even a screenplay for the stage
Transmigrating into this new genre
Means cutting out my own words
Wow! What an emotional challenge
After crafting so carefully scenes that appeal to the senses
Viewers can’t “smell” what’s shown on screen
Writers evoke that experience through what is seen
Physical movement and lighting keep them from being bored
And that takes a camera, not a keyboard.
Now, can you see what I mean?
Anna, this is a fantastic capturing of your year. The use of the word “transmigrating” is so fitting because it gives that feel that there is a shift and relocation of what and how words are grouped in a different way…from almost a different part of the brain or creative space of thinking. I wonder…did you physical space in which you write change, as well?
Amber, thanks for commendations. No, my physical space hasn’t changed and that may be one of the challenges. Seeing the book covers of the novels make me wonder if I disgracing them writing so poorly in the new genre! We’ll see. See them on AMAZON. HINT When you search, use words, not numbers. 213, 321 and 321. 🙂
Anna,
Thank you for the kind note! Michigan will always be home, but Chicago has been a fun change. I’m soaking up all of the literary events!
How exciting for you! It might not be “all that easy!” but I’m sure the end result will be worthwhile. I often think that I wish I were writing a screenplay instead of a short story so I could skip some of the more difficult descriptions, but I know that if I were in your shoes, I too would lament all the words I would have to cut!
Thank you for sharing 🙂
Managing Expectations
this year
everymanyat least one
poem
that I write
will be about
lovelossturtlesturtles in lovewho have lostsomething
to do
with
humanitythis planeta single
redyellowroseflower
a perennial
maybe
yarroworabutterflyweed
and it
will be
magnificentpretty oknot bad at all?it will
just
simply
be
and
I think
I’m ok
with
that
______________________________________
Jessica, thank you for your prompt and mentor poem today! I love your “manifestation”! Let’s hope that this year we (parents, teachers, students, law makers, all) “invest in the promises of our future.” I’m all for that! For my offering, there were so many “places,” so many “futures” that I could have envisioned that it became a bit overwhelming, lol, so I decided to go “the other way.”
Scott, I love where you took this — bringing it right down to the personal, to our own daily futures. The lineouts are a really powerful touch.
Scott, I love how your words assisted by the cross throughs find their place. What better than a perennial or a weed. but most important that you are ok with that – in search of satisfaction – I wish you luck! and hope you find the moment each day.
Scott,
“a poem should not mean but be.” Right?
Scott, this title is a poem in itself. Managing expectations. What a great lens… speaking of perennials: I almost wrote about a dandelion today. It grows in the cracks better than hope does, sometimes. I couldn’t make it work (the dandelion poem, that is, not hope. I hang onto that). Your use of strikethroughs is just masterful, not to mention hilarious (the turtle segments). I found that I could barely write a poem at all today, but here in your words I find strength and clarity of vision: A key to keep on keeping on (with poems or______) is getting over fear of judgment and learning to simply be, and to be ok, with that. Quietly empowering. For this I am grateful.
Ohhhhh!!!!! The striking out of words. This has become a favorable writing technique for me. To show what something was, but is not, and replaced with what is. Also, the addition of “
turtles” gives this a feeling of whimsy and playfulness even though it is struck out. Cute!Scott, I am hosting here in February…I think I might want to use your poem here as inspiration for the Open Write in February. Can I use your poem as reference/inspiration in that blog post?
Amber, absolutely! Thank you for reading and commenting on this. (And you might also want to check out Glenda’s strikethrough prompt this past April!)
Oh, that’s right! I remember seeing that one, but not ever making it to write one. Thank you for directing me to that. I also had an epiphany yesterday. You know the comparison of life and books and the sayings about new chapters of life. Well…I think it’s a good comparison, until I realized I have a new chapter coming up in my life, but I’m starting that chapter before my current one is done. So, I thought…oooo….how fun it would be to do a writing exercise that maybe illustrates the start of stanza intertwined with the end of a previous stanza. We’ll see where we go.
I’m still very fond of your poem and thank you for sharing that with us.
Scott,
I too felt there were too many places/futures to capture, so I had to limit myself to the physical space I was sitting when I drafted my poem: our high school library. I’m glad that you found such a creative way to approach the prompt, though! I love any type of writing that deals with erasure, crossouts, or things left unsaid. In particular, the final crossed out lines of “
magnificent/pretty ok/not bad at all?”stood out to me. I too want to be okay with my writing just being. Thank you for that reminder today!Wow, Scott! You are incredibly gifted with crafting poems in ways I never even imagine. I need a course taught by you! The strikethroughs! Just wow! Turtles in love…just wow!
Jessica, I have been down a rabbit hole this morning. Thank you for introducing us to Martin Espada. My husband and I have just read his poem together and then ordered a book he edited: What Saves Us: Poems of Empathy and Outrage… So powerful. The prompt you share is one that can be used for so many ideas. Like your education poem with libraries full of reading material and no fears. Thank you for that imagining!
This is the year that Palestinian
children will play and dance and sing
along the shore of the Mediterranean.
No outsiders will ever consider taking
their coastline for high-rises for themselves.
This is the year when the olive orchards
will return to bloom and produce in abundance
and all people will be full and healthy
with all their limbs intact and they will
eat Musakhan and celebrate independence.
This is the year when Palestinian borders
will no longer just be a squeezed strip
or a failing bank, but there will be enough
for all. Each nation in this shared space
will not train for war anymore.
This is the year for peace.
Denise, I love your focus –truly meets the idea of “what is possible must first be imagined.” Praying with you for this year of peace!
Denise, the first thing I thought about as the cease fire was announced, was a warm place for the people of Palestine. I love that you brought in the olive orchards. And before the mention of peace your words “will not train for war anymore.” Let’s hope that sentiment spreads far.
Jamie
Denise,
This is a prayer, isn’t it. I love how you crafted this and ended w/ peace.
Denise, Jessica’s very title, “Invest in the Promises of Our Future” instantly turns the heart toward children, mentioned over and over in today’s poems. I see them dancing here in your opening lines, in the shadows of olive trees returning to bloom, in the healing of so much brokenness and devastation. Such beautiful imagery. I savor these lines: “There will be enough/ for all. Each nation in this shared space/will not train for war anymore.” I so hope this is the year of peace. And healing. And enough for all.
Denise, wow, your poem speaks volumes, and I love the images your poem shares. I especially loved the image of the olive orchards and how you build to that final line: This is the year for peace. Truly marvelous message and poem!
Denise, Barb called us the soul sisters, and I looked for your poem. We are, indeed 🙂 Both of our hears hurt for people and children suffering from senseless wars and political games aiming to redistribute the world’s powers. What’s unjust is that there are always innocent civilian people who carry the losses. I hope that as you say: “Each nation in this shared space will not train for war anymore” and pray with you for this year of/for peace.
Denise,
I’m glad you were able to share the poem with your husband! I don’t have that collection, but I look forward to checking it out from the library :). And I too am hoping that this will finally, finally be the year for peace.
Denise, I hope your poem is a prophecy! Thanks for putting to different words MLK. Jr’s famous speech that August in Washington. Prayers that decision makers will use the Golden Rule, not their love for gold!
Jessica,
Thank you for this prompt. I needed to bolster my faith a bit, and this format really helped in doing it. I wish I had more time, there are so many stanzas screaming to be written…
GOD BLESS US, EVERYONE!
This is the year we live out the commercials of the 1970s,
crying lone tears over the destruction of our environment,
holding hands in an open field and singing
about real things, and having the happiness
that leads to spelling out our bologna’s name.
This is the year that the Karens crawl back into obscurity,
disregarding social media to go back to looking from behind blackout curtains,
feeling like they should do something,
but knowing in their hearts, reluctantly,
the world is better with their pie holes shut in beautiful unison.
This is the year that leaders become role models
shunning the baser natures of our souls,
bringing auras into the rooms they enter
like winds for beleaguered sails,
like it was when America was great.
This is the year that our savior walks among us,
and the Sermon on the Mount permeates tarnished hearts,
everyone awakes as if having been visited by three ghosts,
collectively throwing a coin of great value to the boy walking by in the snow,
to fetch the goose for the Cratchits in our lives.
Rex, I value this faith-bolstering effort, most inherently, perhaps, to be of good cheer for that same Savior having overcome the world. That said…today I had a real struggle trying to frame my thoughts and articulating the words for what I most desire for the year. You have given voice to many of them so beautifully here – using, of all things, the commercials of the ’70s! How well remember that lone tear from the “Keep America Beautiful” anti-pollution ad, the “I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony” Coca-Cola song, and really just the simplicity of kid things like spelling along to the Oscar Mayer commercial. How I love your stanza about leaders becoming role models (as they should) and shunning the baser nature of our souls (as we should, if we really want unity and healing). So many magnificent literary allusions in that final stanza…to me they say “redemption is possible” (isn’t it, Ebenezer?). If it can snow nine inches in New Orleans and six on the beaches of the Outer Banks here in my state, as it did over the last day… mightn’t anything be possible? Above all, that image of tossing the coin of great value (again, so symbolic) to the boy in the snow to provide for the Cratchits in our lives…I could say so much more here but I’ll reel back to land on a word, “provision.” In my current rereading of the Bible, that is the word that keeps coming over and over to mind: “provision.” What an incredible, timely reminder about the responsibility of faith…and, you had me from Tim’s words in the title. Thank you so much for this.
Rex,
I completely agree that there are “so many stanzas screaming to be written.” To be honest, I could only bring myself to write one this week; I feel so overwhelmed and so exhausted by our current political climate, but I do think that small exercises and hope and joy are so important. Thank you for taking the time to write all that you did today!
I enjoy the references sprinkled throughout your piece, from the mention of the bologna commercials in the 70s to the “Karens” of today and the Cratchits of Dickens. This not only hammers home the idea that the issues of injustice we face are truly systemic and cyclical, but also that in each generation, there have been those who have hoped for and worked toward justice.
Thank you for sharing!
Oh, Rex, your poem is both moving and humorous. I know the exact image you open with, and I remember being very influenced by the Native American crying witnessing the terrible destruction caused by our selfish, polluting ways. The Karens crawling back into obscurity and shutting their pie holes in unison had me laughing out loud. Yes, this would be wonderful. Your final stanza is compelling. Hope you will continue to write the stanzas screaming to be written.
Rex, this poem is a winner!! I especially appreciated the image of this:
I also chuckled at “pie holes shut in beautiful unison.” YOU CAN’T BE MORE CLEAR OR CORRECT!
Thank you, Rex.
Hi Jessica ~ Thanks for hosting and for offering us an opportunity to hope and create the world we want. I am going to hold onto your last two lines…thank you!
This is the year the frightened
huddle of mice
with chattering teeth
come out of their holes,
and using their small
but saber-sharp tusks,
gnaw at the oversized,
orange-topped
hot air balloon
in the navy suit
that floats above our lie-scorched land.
The is the year, the balloon collapses
and into the street
masses tumble,
the old and the young,
the depressed and repressed
those stateless and homeless,
who yearn to be free.
This is year we remember
our calling,
we unpack our courage
and dance.
Hi Anne!
I’m struck by your use of hyphenated modifiers to add additional details to your poem: “saber-sharped tusks,” “orange-topped hot hair balloon,” and “lie-scorched land” add such evocative imagery to the metaphor in your first stanza. I’m so inspired by the idea of the seemingly-small using their inherent power and traits to not only dismantle oppression, but to also dance. I love that the final line stands on its own!
Thanks for sharing 🙂
Oh Anne — I cannot wait to see that “orange-topped/hot air balloon” go down! What is possible must first be imagined, right?? 😉
Hi, Ann! Your poem is so well crafted. It reads as an extended metaphor for the current “state of affairs” in this country. Love the hopeful ending and how you set off the final line.
We shall dance, after all. Thank you!
Ohhhh, this is good. I love the images your poem delivers flawlessly!
If ever there was a time to unpack courage, it’s now! Thank you!
Hello, Jessica! thank you for hosting and for such a hopeful prompt. Your poem reflect the desire of every classroom teacher. I will hold onto the final two lines especially:
“This is the year when we invest in the promises of our future
rather than the corruptions of our past.”
Thank you to all who hosted Open Write this month!
Here is my poem for today:
This Is the Year
This is the year when
Military aircrafts, helicopters,
Rockets, missiles, and drones
No longer cast shadows
Over the homes of my loved ones,
When the sky seals itself
Against any weapon
Seeking to destroy.
This is the year when
Innocent children no longer
Jolt awake in the dead of night—
Their dreams unbroken
By nightmares of sirens
Or the scream of death
Approaching from above.
This is the year when
People dare to dream again,
Free and fearless in their desires
To be more than survivors,
To build a life unburdened
By constant vigilance—
Protecting their children, their land,
Their fragile tomorrows.
This is the year to live
Without glancing over shoulders,
To rediscover joy in
Loving, laughing, dancing.
To fill the air with the scent of bread,
The sound of music,
The sight of hands crafting,
Hearts creating.
This is the year of peace.
Leilya, this is what so many people want and your words brought me to tears ~ the sky seals itself against weapons…the air filled with the scent of bread…I love those lines! It’s a poem yes, but I want to return to the poem often because it is also a prayer.
Leilya, if only wars and warring hearts would cease in favor of creating a place of rediscovered joy instead. “To be more than survivors,” yes. To be “loving, laughing, dancing” with the scent of bread in the air – what an incredible sense of wholeness that sensory detail evokes! I long for the peace of your ending line. Thank you for this beautiful poem and beautiful, beautiful reminder. I savor it.
Leilya,
Your poem speaks to something that has been weighing on me so heavily, particularly in the last few weeks. Thank you for writing about it!
Like Ann, I particularly love the line “the sky seals itself against weapons.” I’m so moved by the idea of nature subverting the evils of human action. I was also struck by the lines “To build a life unburdened/By constant vigilance/Protecting their children, their land, Their fragile tomorrows.” I’ve been thinking a lot about exhaustion, depletion, and burnout; how debilitating it is, and how unfair it can feel. This is the year that I am recommitting to the small things that make me feel restored: walks, meditating, poetry; “Loving/laughing/dancing.”
Thanks for sharing!
Leylia,
As w/ Denise’s poem, your poem also has a prayerful tone. I sure hope peace arrives in Ukraine soon and that it does not come at the cost of Ukraine’s lands or sovereignty.
Leilya, the opening of your poem is powerful and compelling. Yes, these shadows need to disappear. I hear the fear, the nightmares, the sirens. I completely embrace the need to be constantly vigilant and to protect our world from war and terror. Tomorrow is fragile. The positivity of your final stanza is incredibly moving, and I love your final line. You and Denise are surely soul sisters!
Oh, yes, Leilya, here’s to the year of peace! The warmth and joy in your last stanza is beautiful to imagine, and I thank you for writing and helping me be there with the laughter and dancing, to smell the bread, hear the music and see the crafters creating. So much beauty and peace!
Leilya, my friend, I feel every line in my heart. I pray for this year of peace too. Let us all be able to dream and live with no fear again. 🩵
Yes, ma’am. All of it. This is the year, please and thank you and hearts creating. The hope is strong here. I’m drawn to all of it.
Jessica, this mentor poem brought up many emotions as I read it multiple times–thank you for sharing this. Thank you for your mentor poem–we can all relate.
To the other January hosts, thank you for hosting, I couldn’t squeeze in time for writing and posting the first four days but I did read through them all and hope to return on my own later.
this will be the year of NO
NOt solely for boundaries and self-care
but for humanity, my children’s future, my student’s future
it won’t just take the two-letter word
it takes action, NOt just hope and prayers
how do we pillage, fight, access for
reproductive health and gun safety
removed at government level
ways to communicate and rally are owned
by the 1% who canNOt define humanity, narcissism
this will be the year to figure that out
if NOt, what will our his/her-stories tell of us
NO, i don’t want even want to imagine
NOt just the future, NOw
Hi, Stefani! I am saying ‘yes” to your “NO.” I like how you use caps for ‘NO’ throughout the poem. To me, this visual effect emphasizes the meaning because “it won’t just take the two-letter word / it takes action.” We have to be brave and say “NO” to that “the 1% who canNOt define humanity.” Your poem is a strong call for action. Thank you!
Stefani, I love the way you weave in the word No and how important it is to say no and refuse to accept the awful cruelty and injustice being played out by our government. NOw…is the perfect way to end your poem. It is certainly a message and fight song to remember.
If the National Writing Project
began as a vision of public
education with criticality,
self-efficacy, and joy in writing
in schools across the country,
then this is the year.
If the Social Justice Standards
began as an imagination of lesson plans
grounded in empathy & compassion,
naming harm & acting toward
healing, lessons from our lives centered,
then this is the year.
If every revolution begins with teachers,
taking up pens and keyboards,
then this is the year we teach cursive
so that our students will scribble
their names on humanizing executive
orders some day in front of America;
then this is the year we center
the poetry and art of every state and country
to resist erasure of the diversity that is us;
then this is the year our students write
books to refill our classroom libraries
dreaming more just futures;
then this is the year we partner with students–
co-research worker health and safety,
explore conscientious objectors as an option,
define diaspora, locate West Bank, ask “affordable” to whom;
yes this is the year we unpack
every 1-4-0-XX as a powerful
genre someone imagined, crafted,
published, and signed. Not unlike
Apartheid, Nuremberg, Hutu Ten.
So may every writing teacher out there,
poets in all your being,
uncover writing as never neutral,
writing as able to leverage revolution;
fill the pages of lesson plans
with poetic lessons that imagine a good tomorrow—
a year that I am, frankly, afraid to imagine today.
Sarah, the line “never neutral” is and has been imperative in our classrooms, thank you for adding this in your poem today as a reminder. Your link with 1-4…is, just, I don’t know, all together, there just isn’t a word strong enough to represent the emotions! Thank you for sharing today.
Sarah, there is so much in your poem that resonates with me as a human, a citizen, and a teacher. I read your poem as a hymn to a year that “uncover[s] writing as never neutral,” us-teachers as never neutral because it simply cannot be otherwise. I also appreciate the live links you provided to help understanding NWP, Social Justice Standards, Executive Orders, and Nuremberg. Your final line brings me (a reader) to our reality.
My absolute favorite lines are:
” then this is the year we teach cursive
so that our students will scribble
their names on humanizing executive
orders some day in front of America.”
Thank you!
Sarah, I was just looking at some of the poems I haven’t taught in a while (Keats’ The Second Coming) at reimagining all the ways the message is already there just waiting for new readers to discover it. I agree with Stefani on providing the link to 140xx and the emotions this raises. I believe our writing these last five days will be a strong historical marker of where we stand, what is important, documenting the history unfortunately tied to this time.
Sarah, wow! Your poem speaks directly to my heart. I love the power of your message and the positive change that would occur if this writing revolution began. I think it can. I think you’ve started a fire here. I love the image of our future students signing proclamations for a safe and loving world. Publish this poem everywhere. More teachers and communities need to hear your voice. Thank you!
The entire poem moves me, Sarah, but I was especially struck by this stanza:
Wow! Yes! This vision is one I can get on board with. Even if I too am afraid to imagine this today–I still want it. Wow! YEs!
Jessica, I am awed by the mentor text you shared – incredible imagery. And oh, does your own poem ever echo the teacher’s lament…I have just been asked to create an experience for a select group of students at school, without any resources or offer of funding. I will have to press for this or sell te family cow for a handful magic beans – except that there is no family cow. More on this later…I so wanted to write something grand and glorious and rich today, maybe something comforting and healing…and it would not come. I will keep thinking on it and sifting through the desire of my heart. In the meantime, here is the only little seed I could produce. Thank you for the gift of your words and this invitation.
Imagine
This is the year
that we say
I love you
anyway.
Fran, this IS something grand and glorious and rich. There is so much power in the three simple words I Love You…..and then the word that changes it all: anyway. To forgive, to press on with our arms around someone despite whatever happened to make us want to not embrace them. I am intrigued by the experience for the group of students and the quest for the magic beans.
Fran, I will take your poem any day, under any mood or weather. The best poems don’t have to be long or artificially rich and glorious. I “hear” your heart through this one. Thank you!
Fran, this little seed will be sprouting in my heart for days to come. No matter how bleak, how lonely, how scared…anyway. What you don’t say is captured in such simple but perfect lines. Anyway, I think I will be saying it a thousand times a day. Simple and beautiful.
Fran, this is a lovely companion piece to your poem from yesterday, a distillation of sorts of your “bright-sharp part / that was / so beautiful / despite all.” I’ve loved all of your poems (and your comments to my poems 🙂 and others’ too) this week (and, of course, truth be told, not just this week, lol). You have such a gift. Thank you so much for being a part of this community and for sharing your craft and humanity here!
Fran, all the best as you create an experience for the group of students. I’m sure you will creatively make magic happen. I love your poem and that you have imagined the best things of all. Love.
Fran,
what a seed this is. Thank you for planting it here so that it may grow in each of us.
Yes! And, how brilliant! Just imagine…I love the sentiment. Wishing it all true.
Jessica,
Thank you so much for a prompt that gets us looking forward while also looking back so we can see the things we hope to happen. Your mentor poems brevity holds its power and I really love the
I fell into revisionist history. Our son tells me I look on times past with too much nostalgia and see things with rose-colored glasses. And, I realize that the things I write about certainly weren’t and aren’t all people’s reality or desire. But, it is MY dream of what this year will hold.
This Is the Year
This is the year that parenting returns,
real parenting laced with wisdom
and firmness and love.
Andy Griffith and Ward Cleaver
Mike Brady and Steven Keaton
(Clark Huxtable was a heckuva dad
even though the man playing him
ended up being deplorable.)
This is the year that family life returns,
real family life filled with time
and tradition and boredom.
Board games and bedtime stories
Dinners at the table and Sundays at Grandma’s
(Dad’s Saturday golf game
or Mom’s card club never seemed selfish . . .
kids’ activities didn’t dictate the calendar.)
This is the year that worship returns,
real worship of our God and Creator complete with humility
and hope and forgiveness
Church attendance and Sunday school
Bedtime prayers and Bible verses
(Time in the pews being quiet
and stifling impulsive behavior and pretending to listen and care
until we really do.)
This is the year that contentment returns,
contentment replete with safety
and peace of mind and “anxious” means “I can’t wait.”
Playing in the park and lounging on the couch
Filling up coloring books and gobbling up books
(Schools return to paper and pencil,
gorgeous cursive writing, mastered multiplication facts,
and respect, with elders deserving of it.)
This is the year to return to practices that seem outdated
but a time when families were whole
and so were the people in them.
~Susan Ahlbrand
22 January 2025
Oh, you pack a punch today! A good punch of truth and need. That last line got me – – how true it rings! And pretending to listen and care until we really do is captivating, too. And it really does work – – because 3 years ago, my One Little Word was Listen. I wanted to do it better, so I chose it as my word. What I found was that I bit my tongue so many times when I remembered that this was my word. I opened my ears instead of my mouth, and it was a year of discovery. I did listen. And I cared more because of it. There is so much truth in your words today – I found myself going back in time, grateful for the years of growing up without a device.
Oh Susan – your poem brings tears. This is the poem I wish I could have written today. Not out nostalgia, really, but for wanting better, for desiring stability, for creating safe havens where insecurities are lessened, for forgiveness and a return to family wholeness and worshipping in spirit and in truth. I echo your intro: I know every piece of this isn’t everyone’s vision. I don’t expect it to be. Just know that I stand by you in every single line, craving peace of mind and anxious meaning excited anticipation instead of fear – and even the return to gorgeous cursive writing, that so cursed my young soul back in the day! Thank you for your heart – and for the heartening.
What I like about this poem is how it says so much about what isn’t by showing what used to be. Like Kim says, it packs a punch! I wouldn’t mind cursive writing. I miss the style and grace of it.
Jessica, the writing prompts this week have been cathartic, allowing us to move through and forward while offering the hope that feels stolen. It is so good to end our five days together with writing that allows us to grasp onto that hope. Thank you for giving us a focus, for sharing your words on futures filled with fully stocked schools and libraries. I stumbled across the sound of a Celtic wind instrument used to rouse troops to battle and its haunting tones linger.
This is the year that bishops woman up
And Doug doesn’t shake the hand
TeenVogue and RollingStone outjournal the journalists
And all women flight crews carry queens home
Canada trolls US by renaming the Great Lakes
To Stay on Your Own Side Lakes
Pam Hemphill and Germany stand side by side
Showing us how to learn from the past
And reject pardons and fascist billionaires
to know a crime is a crime
This is the year of the second coming
When the best are full of passionate intensity
The is the year I no longer give a F#@%
The year that women are heard
Speaking truth to power
The Carnyx of our battle
Jennifer, I love it all – the Great Lakes renaming, the learning from the past, the all women flight crews – – this is a powerful poem, filled with all the great things a year can hold. It takes the form, in my mind, of those pictorials at the end of a year where you see snapshots of moments in time that happened from January to December. I can see each one of your lines like that, and I’m laughing at one in particular wondering what your facial expression would be in that photo! I love how you made it seeable through vivid imagery.
Jennifer, such amazing slaps, references, and ideas here. I love how much you are able to cover in this poem and of course, love the Great Lakes line. Thank you for speaking your truth today!
Jennifer, I am with Kim–every reference, every line of your poem is a punch and a promise of possibilities and change for the better. It gives me hope. Thank you!
Jennifer,
I too am looking forward to TeenVogue and RollingStone continuing to “outjournal the journalists” and echo your sentiment that “The is the year I no longer give a F#@%.” Thank you for sharing!
Amen! Sing it, sister! ooooh, do I love this don’t give a F#@% attitude. I wish I wasn’t our reality but here we are.
Jessica, thank you for hosting us today! Oh, how I love this poetry prompt – – especially for January. I can see how it could be used at the start of a year, a month, a week, a day, an hour. Your positive outlook on education and all that we hope the year holds is uplifting. Thank you, and all of this week’s hosts, for investing in us as writers with inspirational prompts.
Enough!
this is the year that
my one little word, enough,
takes on new meaning
helps guide decisions
about life, work, and spending
I need just enough
Kim, enough could not be more appropriate for this year. Pondering the questions surrounding this word: What is enough? What is just enough? When is enough, enough? When is it just enough? I know, I know. Enough already. The world needs the sigh behind enough, the gentle exhale that comes from knowing.
Kim, I love your OLW, “enough.” I believe in the philosophy behind it – the need to simplify, to free oneself from unnecessary things and burdens. In essence, traveling lighter. I remember my grandfather speaking of times past: people had so little but they were happier. People pulled together to help each other. I don’t desire deprivation, but I long for that unity and sense of common purpose.
Kim,
What a perfect little One Word. I’ve never been good at enoughing. When I think I’ve done enough, I fall short. I tend to do way too much rather than stopping at enough. I admire that you are focusing on doing JUST ENOUGH. Kind of like the Goldilocks principle of JUST RIGHT.
My One Word this year is REWIRE. Last year was GRACE, the year before it was ENGAGE and the year before that was REDEFINE. These little things help steer us toward what we need, don’t they!
I know that with every interaction that I have had with you . . . you are always just enough and just right!
Kim, I love your concise message and the power of enough. I thought about writing about simplifying life, but enough has so many layers of meaning here. Powerful poem! Thank you!
I like the word “enough,” Kim, in all possible contexts. There is something wise, solid, yet simple about knowing what, where, when, and how is enough. I am going to come back to your poem quite often this year I think.
Kim,
I too have been thinking about “just enough” — how can I ensure I am taking/consuming/buying just enough to be an ethical consumer and human?; how can I give/do/work just enough to ensure I am honoring my own needs? Thank you for sharing your take on these questions. I hope you achieve the balance you strive for! 🙂
Beautiful! A gut punch of words…I willing truth into them. I love how that poem is about and shows enough with brevity and words like, “just.”
Jessica–oh, if only this were true! Your poem represents every wish we ever had as teachers. There is a joy implicit in it, and hope, and realism.
I have been absent from the group this week. We have been waiting for the results of my husband’s biopsy as I was also getting ready for a new semester at college. Well, the phone call came, and it’s the diagnosis we both expected and dreaded.
This poem wrote itself.
This is the Year
This was going to be the year that
I would take care of myself a little more–
Take some small trips
Lose that ten pounds again
Get some massages
Join a book group.
Have lunches.
Enjoy my interns, help them grow.
This was going to be the year that
We celebrated family
New grandson on the way
Three-year-old drama queen to marvel at
Dogs and cats wrestling and loving us
Joy.
All that changed with one phone call. Now…
This will be the year that we fight my husband’s cancer.
Again
Doctor’s appointments
Surgery plans
Organizing medicine bottles
Chemo, radiation
Worrying
Losing sleep
Advocating, advocating, advocating
Because he can’t and because he never has
Pain
Tears
Hope
Fear
We’ve been down this road before.
I know how to do it.
I know that I can do it.
I’m good at this.
This will be the year that I become a caretaker again
The rest will have to fit itself in somewhere
The joys of being a grandmother
The job that I love
The dogsandthecatsandthehouseandeverythingelseittakestolive,
This will be the year that I have to remember how to be strong. Again.
This will be the year I had hoped would never happen.
This will be the year.
GJSands
1/22/25
Gayle, I am so sorry to hear this news. Your poem captures the one phone call and how life can shift in the matter of a few seconds. Your line breaks truly add so much to this poem, especially the news in the middle on its own line and the way you smashedallthewordstogether in the stanza near the end with all the things. It shows the doing, doing, and doing of handling matters with hardly a breath for yourself. And the first and last lines has one holding far different plans, one holding the plan that you hoped would not happen. My prayers are with you and your husband as you fight this together.
Gayle, several things stand out to me in reading (and rereading) alongside you today. The power behind the word we (we fight my husband’s cancer) and the strength in togetherness. The knowing how to do something that shouldn’t need knowing, the becoming good at it when it shouldn’t have to be. The long string of all it takes to live and the full on ramification of it all. The reminder that you are strong and it doesn’t require remembering to start that road again because you are you. And that final line, sitting all by itself, the deep resignation that sits inside it, but more importantly, the “I’ve got this” that comes through. Hugs to all of you. Prayers to all of you. Strength to all of you.
Dear Gayle… having been my husband’s caretaker through many major medical setbacks since 2015, from cardiac arrest to bypasses to the loss of an eye with ocular melanoma and a spinal fusion, I know the bone-weariness of “we’ve been done this road before.” I know the necessity of shoving every other hope and plan and all self-care aside. I wish I could hug you (sending it virtually here) as you face this juggling act of all that you love with “everything else it takes to live.” I pray you strength for endurance, moment by moment. I pray wisdom to the medical teams treating your husband. I pray for your husband’s holistic strength, in body, mind, and spirit. Your poem moves me so deeply… I will also say that when I was able to find a tiny pocket of time to write throughout the ordeals, it kept me from being swept away. I wish you those pockets. <3
Gayle, thank you for feeling safe to share this here. Your line about this poem wrote itself is a powerful reminder of poetry and writing as catharsis. Take care of you along the way and thank you for this poem.
Gayle, I’m so sorry to hear this! “I know how to do it. / I know that I can do it. / I’m good at this.” I love the craft of you poem (while simultaneously hating the sentiment — the “again[ness]” of it all). Know that you have fellowship here, a community who can listen and provide care and comfort in equal measure. You and your husband (and your dogs and cats, too) are in my thoughts.
Gayle, I wish you and your husband all the best. Two summers ago after a lumpectomy and through a month of radiation, I was graced with so much attention I was a bit embarrassed. Through that experience I learned that people want to help however they best can. My partner took me out after radiation ( and it was daily). Friends brought us so much food ( and it was appreciated). I got gifts of books and chocolate. As you find your strength believe that the other things will find their way. Good luck. Jamie
Oh, Gayle, I am so sorry to hear the news, and the fact that you “know how to do it” doesn’t help at all. I wish we could say it’s going to be okay and you got this. The truth is “This will be the year” full of pain, anxiety, worries. Sending love, hugs, and prayers.
Oh, Gayle, I am so sorry. To have to face such a fight for a second time must be so overwhelming. Tour poem captures so many emotions and the before and after the phone call set-up really works.
Gayle,
Thank you for sharing your poem and your news with us. I’ll be thinking of you and your husband. Just because you know how to do it, and you know that you can do it, does not mean you should have to do it. I hope that you can still make time for the other small joys you had hoped for this year <3.
Good Morning Writers, By day 5 of Open Write I’ve got my routine down to be able to free write in my notebook and then turn to the keyboard. Thanks for helping me get my groove back at least for this week.
Jessica, this prompt is fantastic! It cannot help but to nudge the writer toward aspirations and goals. I love that! I dream of libraries fully staffed with books that kids want to read and space to learn! Chef’s kiss to your poem…especially ” without fear of accusations and vilifications”
Here’s my drafty draft. With thanks again for a great writing time!
This is the year that children put anxiety to bed
tucked in with a full belly, in a safe home
a loving goodnight, luv.
The closet door is closed
there is a night light
glass of water
warm, fluffy blanket and pillow.
We know that in the morning
Grownups will make breakfast
standing in the kitchen
flipping pancakes,
squeezing fruit juice
as anxiety climbs into a chair
to watch how to take
care of a person
from the first moment
of each day.
Anxiety will grow so fat
on routine nurturing
it will change its name
to calm.
Linda, I want to be in that kitchen, smelling the pancakes and sitting in the chair watching how to take care. I need to relearn that part all over again from scratch. That is one beckoning kitchen, so inviting I can smell the pancakes. Yes, yes, I want us to all be able to call anxiety calm. You have just the right idea for both our physical and mental health to have a better year.
Linda, the gentleness and care conveyed throughout your poem, the looking out for and the nurturing, the attention to all that lessens fear, allowed me respite to find some calm this morning. I’m closing the closet door and cozying in with a blanket on another school day off from freezing temps. I just need a grownup to make me breakfast. What a beautiful way to begin the day.
Oh my goodness, Linda… how can any of us not desire this simple vision of safety for children, so nurtured and unafraid, with grown-ups providing the necessities of life, as they should?? Those last lines sum it all up so brilliantly: “Anxiety will grow so fat on routine nurturing it will change its name to calm.” If only. If only. I have seen the common thread of anxiety running through today’s poems. Here I find the heart’s cry for calm, for the sake of the children. Really, for the sake of us all. Let the grown-ups roll up their sleeves in the kitchen…
Linda,
I’m so happy to hear that you’re feeling back in the groove! This is always a difficult time in January for me — I feel tired after the holidays, overwhelmed by the thought of the second semester, and disappointed in my lack of follow-through with my New Years Resolutions (which usually involve writing!). I too appreciate that the Open Write gives me the opportunity to dip my toe back into writing (though I didn’t participate as much as I’d hoped this week). It also serves as a reminder that it’s never too late to start back on a habit!
What a beautiful personification of anxiety and calm. These concrete details of a safe and cozy nighttime and breakfast routine really took me back to the days of my own childhood. I never appreciated all of the seemingly simple things my mom did to make me feel safe and loved. I don’t have children, but I often think of how I can create a similar environment for my nephews.
Thank you for sharing!
Linda, I am all for that fat anxiety to turn into calm. Such a beautiful poem with so much love and care for children. So many need your poem to be true today. Thank you!