Welcome to Day 2 of the August Open Write. If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of today’s host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, click here.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. Margaret has been an elementary school teacher for 35 years, most recently teaching gifted students in Iberia Parish. Her first book of children’s poetry was published in 2018 by UL Press, Bayou Song: Creative Explorations of the South Louisiana Landscape. Margaret’s poems have appeared in anthologies including The Poetry of US by National Geographic and Rhyme & Rhythm: Poems for Student Athletes. Margaret writes a blog regularly at http://reflectionsontheteche.com.
Inspiration
I have followed children’s author Laura Purdie Salas for years. On her blog, she would post a weekly photo prompt called “15 Words or Less”. A few years ago she decided to stop doing this weekly prompt, so I asked her permission to start one on my blog. She was gracious about it, and I started posting “This Photo Wants to be a Poem.” Similar to this Open Write prompt, I invite readers to leave a poem in the comments and support each other with encouraging comments. The photos are from my own phone photos, or I ask permission from someone I follow on social media.
I often post the same photo for my students to write about on our Fanschool site, but I only share my small poem without much, if any, commentary. Sample post here.
Process
Musing on a photograph can take many different directions. You could write a fairy tale poem, an aphorism, a haiku or other small poem form. Recently, Heidi Mordhorst wrote a found poem using the words I wrote in my commentary about this photograph.
Margaret’s Poem
Nature makes no demands.
Listen to the wind through the grass.
Earth’s song in harmony.
Modern haiku, Margaret Simon, draft
Heidi’s Poem
grass loves
a string of rainy days
happens helps the rising
some days
air is wet ground is wet body is wet
grass loves all this
grows and grows
as tall as walk
as tall as look
as tall as beautiful
ongoing reliably
replenishing lushness
draft ©HM 2022
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. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
My eye is drawn to the corner of the yard
and the grass spared from the sickle
I’m older and the task is hard
My attitude more fickle
I’ll leave the seeds and live with weeds
Bill, I love how you own the fickleness of old age! Enjoy your weeds.
Margaret, thanks for the challenge to transform a picture into a poem. I’ve chosen a piece of art by Jacob Lawrence from his Migration Series. Seeing the TV news of immigrants being bussed to NYC from Texas and reflecting on the Northern Migration of my ancestors, I’ve written.
OPEN SEATS
Johnny, Get back here now!
But…
But, nothing!
But, Gramma.
Johnny. You heard me. Now!
But, there’s a seat up there for you.
JOHNNY! ….. We can’t sit there!
Gramma…………You’re tired.
You’ve been working all day for Ms. Daisy.
I know…………..But we can’t sit up there.
I’ll go sit up there and save you a seat. Okay?
Johnny, Get back here now!
Gramma, I’m going to sit up there if you don’t.
Oh, my Lord! Johnny. You’re gonna get us into trouble.
Thank you for the prompt today.
Green grass
Longing to be blowing in the wind
Stretching far
Bending on the breeze
Straining to hear giggling
Coming from another field
DeAnna,
This transported me directly to the soccer fields! This time of year resonates particularly. 🙂
All the -ings pull me through this line by line like that blade of grass threading through. Great imagery and feel. Is there a name for how a language makes you feel the way it reads? Kind of like onomatopoeia with words mimicking sound so we can hear it, but words mimicking a feeling – ? Because I feel like the wind and the blade of grass. I feel like straining, and then I feel the tender sharpness of the giggle. So cool.
I love the “straining to hear giggling”. It gives such an innocent and refreshing tone to your poem. What a delight!
Margaret, thank you for offering this poetry prompt today. I loved creating a poem from this picture and also reading what others have come up with it as well. Your line: “listen to the wind through the grass” helped to inspire my piece today. Thank you!
Still Life
foxtails out of focus
grass blades in disarray
prairie gesticulations
Rachelle,
I can close my eyes and visualize this poem.
Great job!!
Rachelle,
I love how quickly this took me to a prairie with wind blowing like waves through the grass. 🙂
Gesticulations. What a great word and a powerful one to end on. How nature can seem so chaotic to our more “orderlied” ways of structuring our lives around us. Yet, it’s not chaos. Is it? Lovely imagery.
Margaret, you’ve inspired me with your gentle soothing words and your photograph. I was transported to my youthful days when chewing on the stalks brought the sweet and bright flavors of summer. Thank you!
Sweet Grass
Sun-kissed stem
Waving from afar
Calling to be chosen
For that sweet
Taste of summer
Christine, I love the cheerful tone set with “sun-kissed” and “waving” right away–just like the picture! Thanks for sharing this sweet taste of summer with us.
Christine,
I love the visual of a sun-kissed stem.
Thank you for sharing today.
Sun-kissed got us all this time! The s sounds and the -ings mimic the imagery of that grass, waving and being sweet. And why is it sweet? Because it’s sun-kissed, of course! Very calming to read. Thank you for that!
The grass was decimated
with the new home improvement project
We wait to see
if the rain will bring tender shoots
Mo, what a fascinating juxtaposition of human desire and Nature’s will. I hope you see tender shoots soon!
Mo — those “tender shoots” will come. I’m with Rachelle in liking the juxtaposition of “improvement “ and “decimated.” I’m in the same mode, having just worked to get a stairway up the hill built in back… the steps are beautiful but my wrists are sore and the surrounding turf is raw. I’m focused on your hopeful and inevitable “tender roots” and “rain.”
Ah, the irony – home improvement destroying nature. But, it does rebound. I often wonder just how long it would take for Earth to rebound if we all just disappeared. I’m sure that grass will come back – with a vengeance! Then the next poem will be about mowing it! Nice observations, Mo.
Mo, I love your end. Grass is so important in the Midwest. The softness it provides connects well to your end. We have been incredibly dry and I long for a greener lawn.
Thanks for the prompt, Margaret. I love the inspiration of photos. So much room for interpretation.
Reaching
By Nancy White
(Inspired by a recent trip to the nursery.)
Rainbow flowers, colors spin
I see my grandson’s outstretched hand
Reaching in wonder,
Wanting—
Can I have?
Yes, you can, sweet boy.
Keep dreaming,
Always reaching.
I love this! I can understand the reaching in wonder at the beautiful colors.
Nancy, I love the photo that goes with your poem. Yes, you can, sweet boy, is my favorite phrase, too!
I just awwwwed out loud. Keep dreaming. Always reaching. Those are two beautiful lines that would be a great start prompt or repetition – so positive and motivating. And what a sweet chubby little paw!
The grass is greener
on the other side they say
but they say it wrong
The grass is greener
where you water and feed it
with care and concern
Whether it is trim
and neat or wild and weedy
make your peace in place
Good lesson, Cara. The last line says it.
Perfect, Cara. I love how this is a beautiful lesson without feeling preachy!
Cara, I like your structure of taking a common saying and deconstruct it. The line “neat or wild and weedy” stood out to me because it reminds me of my own neighborhood, and how my neighbors all keep their lawns to their own standards. Some have magnificent, pruned landscaping and others are wild (and look cool!).Thanks for the reminder!
Cara,
I love the life lesson you packed into a beautiful poem.
Cara— I especially love the “make your peace in place.” Such a sage poem! ❤️ Susie
virile plant erect
beneath humid skies
hungers; thrives
Barb Edler
Well, I’m not sure why my photo did not appear. It’s kind of funny. Thank you for your prompt and time today, Margaret.
I’m kind of glad it didn’t show up, Barb. Your words have painted a pretty descriptive picture for me. I’m blushing!
Barb’s plant!
Barb, I tried to upload your photo, but it rejected it for some reason. So sorry.
No worries.
Thank you for this opportunity to write with a photo, Margaret! I used to do this with my 7th and 8th graders when I taught in Gueydan, LA (not far from you).
I am just having fun with this one today:
Green foxtale is ready
To tickle my souls.
I am feeling unsteady,
But it’s good for the soul 🙂
Leila, I so enjoyed “tickle my souls” Plants and nature are moving and I can relate to the feelings of unsteadiness.
I love the thought of the fox tale tickling your soul.
I just laughed out loud at the end line. The idea that feeling unsteady can be okay. I needed to hear that today – heading back on campus for start-up days for the first on-campus start-up week since 2019, and I’m feeling a bit unsteady – but – it’s good for the soul! Thank you Leilya
Always happy to help 🙂 Have a wonderful first week of school, Denise! Let’s embrace “unsteady;” it’s a part of our existence.
MISCHIEF!
Puppy-dom:
taste ‘em,
snatch ‘em,
run zoomies
across the Serengeti,
down the hill,
across to the pines,
then herd my old feet
to the back door
for that treat
she knows
is in my pocket.
¿Quien? ¿Yo?
¡Arf!
by Susie Morice© August 21, 2022
Oh, she is so cute! Thank you for a playful poem, Susie!
Susie, I’m in love with your super sweet pup. I enjoyed your new Spanish skills incorporated into this, and the action of the poem is rhythmic and easy to see. Very fun!
Susie, I love the playful puppy personality of this poem! You’ve captured that silliness and delightful knowing it’s time for a treat! ??
I’ve been waiting for you to write about her, Susie! Her life sounds incredible. She’s lucky to have you. ?
Susie, I love that side eye, “uhm, mom, how about that treat I know you have in your pocket.” Lol. “Zoomies” are the best! And then the “herd[ing]”! So great!
Thanks, Scott. She is so funny, and when I catch that whale eye with a quick pic, it just makes me giggle. She’s more fun , albeit exhausting, than I’ve had in ages! She seems to get bigger by the day, so I’m anxious to see just how big she’ll get. She’s a bearded collie recuse puppy.
Ha…I should proofread before posting…alas.
Margaret — love this picture prompt. This reminded me of a conversation I had with my neighbor about biodiversity and the lack of in our suburbian lawns.
Long slender grasses
Is biodiversity
Bending towards light
A tapestry lawn
Refuge for lost the monarch
A home for insects
The untamed beauty
Weeds turned wildflower
Nature’s true landscape
Love your poem, Tammi! My favorite is the second haiku:
“A tapestry lawn
Refuge for lost the monarch
A home for insects”
Tammi, I absolutely love your poem and especially how you build to the final line. Gorgeous poem!
You just described my yard, Tammi. Over several years, my husband moved out the grass and it’s now allll flowers and hostas. Lots of native plants (aka weeds) and bee/butterfly-friendly blooms. We don’t miss the lawn at all and sit out and watch the bees, monarchs, swallowtails, and so many birds visit daily. It is indeed Nature’s true landscape. A tapestry lawn. Love those phrases.
For me, this photo
is a bit of the rabbit
and the duck or the
young-woman-old-woman
optical illusion, a bit of
the old Relationship Status,
(à la Facebook’s):
“It’s Complicated.”
What I see is not
what you see,
and what you see
is not what I see,
yet we’re both right:
we’re all right, alright?
(alright) in fact.
And I find a comfort in that
a poet sees rebirth
or rejuvenation,
would use words
like thicket and lush
(seemingly, an
overabundance
of bush)
a web designer,
however, would find
that the light green blade
in the bottom left
is really #7AE73A
(according to her
ColorPick Eyedropper
Chrome Extension)
whereas a neighbor
might see this as blight,
a bit of evergreen neglect,
can’t these people
keep their lawn in check?
to wit, the gardener
would see a challenge,
ultimately a decision:
which weed wacker
would I use – the
Craftsman v20 or the
Ryobi 4-stroke
and the occupants who
have reserved a table
at this miniature Rainforest
Cafe – they have a say, too,
don’t they?
So, I’ve found it rather
beneficial to remember
an image is not always
what it appears
at first blush.
_________________________________________________
Margaret, thank you for your poem (and Heidi’s), your prompt, and your photo today! There is absolutely a “lushness” to all of them!
Scott — I really enjoyed how you revealed various perceptions of the grass image and laughed out loud to “can’t these people/ keep their lawn in check?”
I am that neighbor that everyone is probably crumbling about as I tried to cultivate my backyard with wildflowers but mostly just grew weeds. Or were they flowers? I’m really not sure.
Scott — I really like how you focused on perspective. Well done.
That was fun! It would be great to hear you read this out loud. It has such a great rhythm and flow and funny punchlines. “a bit of evergreen neglect” was my favorite line. And – all very true. Nice of you to consider the little creatures – reminds me of Horton Hears a Who. Thanks for the smile!
Two science teachers are neighbors (I am one)
Their lawn is military buzz cut
From the drone of mowers
cutting through sunset
Ours is laden long stems
heavy on top with seed
tangled with flowers and bees
We always stop
to talk in the road between us.
Thank you, Emily! This is exactly how I feel about our lawn and our neighbors. They cut grass every four (!) days, and we may not get to ours for two weeks. My favorite lines are describing your side:
” Ours is laden long stems
heavy on top with seed
tangled with flowers and bees”
Yes, my lawn is also “laden long stems/heavy on top with seed/
tangled with flowers and bees.” Love the vivid and beautiful image of nature you have painted.
Hi, Emily! Such clear images…that “buzz cut” and the “drone”… what I love the most is the poignancy of the last two lines…that “road between us.” Yes…different drummers no doubt. Em, have a wonderful new school year. I’ll be thinking of you! Hugs, Susie
“We always stop to talk…” brings a happy smile of respecting each other’s diverse ways
Found Poem in the Grass
Wee tim’rous beastie,
I do know how to fall down into the grass.
Who wishes to walk with me?
(Burns, Oliver, Whitman)
Allison, I love this poem’s “found in the grass” theme. It’s clever, sweet, inviting with a question at the end! It makes me want to go out and search for a wee beastie. Thanks for your offering today!
Love the line – “wee tim’rous beastie” – written in the style of poets of yore…and I am captivated by the question posed by your haiku, which causes me to imagine the world beneath the grass, that there are wee beings living there. A wonderful imaginative tangent for the photo!
Allison, I enjoyed your poem at first read, and then I loved it when I realized what you really did! The names at the end and then your title had me smiling broadly at this! [And I confess, I spent a chunk of time looking through other poems that could continue in the same vein as yours. Alas, I only found the line from Virgil “A snake lurks in the grass,” but that would only serve to change the tone drastically. Lol. Thank you for this afternoon’s diversion!]
Allison,
I love this line “I do know how to fall down into the grass.” That sense of lost innocence and inability to enjoy nature as a child is powerful.
In my mind, I had inserted “I do NOT know who to fall down into the grass. Still love the line and appreciate that you still do know how to fall into the grass and enjoy nature like a child.
Ahh, how genius…the 3 bests and now it’s yours…the best among those bests. Sending you the buzz of bees and the best for a buzzing happy classroom this term! Hugs, Susie
Allison, what a perfectly constructed found poem. Your final question is such a wonderful invitation. My favorite line is the second one. I feel a need to start a poem with that line. Delightful poem!
I thought of Oliver with this prompt too! I love that you incorporated her into your poem. Thank you for sewing all these greats together.
Margaret, I love how you’ve titled your version of this prompt, what a great thing to ponder. Thank you for sharing the image of your grandbabies, your smile emits so many emotions and is calling for its own poem.
soon i will be dormant
not gone
my fluff will filter far away
not gone
my legs still rooted deep
not gone
until the sun plays long enough
i will return
The echo of “not gone” is effective. I also like the personification of the grass.
Stefani,
I feel autumn in this lovely poem. “Fluff will filter” puffed on the breeze. Really nice. Thank you.
I like the repetition in this poem, Stefani. It’s got a strong undercurrent to it, and a hopeful ending. I like the juxtaposition of “my fluff will filter away” and “legs still rooted deep” – there’s a deep sense of groundedness here, pun intended. 🙂
There are multiple meanings to this poem! Face value, perhaps just an ode to the grass itself, its many seasons…but there is this spiritual level, almost a metaphor for all our lives. I adore the repetition of “not gone.”
Stefani,
I love love love
and the powerful refrain of
Love the repetition of “not gone” and the theme of rebirth through the seasons.
This bring the sadness of summer ending and fall and winter soon to come. Yet there is always that hope that will return.
Thank you, Margaret, for your gorgeous photo and prompt! Your poem brings peace to my weary soul. I found out last night that a close friend lost her husband unexpectedly in a motorcycle crash. They celebrated their 16th anniversary last week and now she has to bury her best friend. I spent about an hour thinking about the gift of every single day, pondering my purpose and whether I’m fulfilling it. I felt so empty last night but today you bring peace and hope and a smile. Thank you.
My haiku inspired by your picture:
I can do all things
With a mustard seed of faith
Nothing is too hard
My haiku for my picture attached below:
Stand out in the crowd
Let your golden light pop through
Sweet hope for this day
©Stacey L. Joy, August 21, 2022
Formatting changed. ?
Stacey,
What beautiful haiku for a Sunday. If we only all had that mustard seed of faith. Keep shining, my friend. ❤️
Stacey—
Lovely poems, both. Thank you for sharing your joy ?
Stacey, The times when I’ve had friends suffering seem to be hardest for me. I have empathy that can be debilitating. I’m glad you are finding peace in poetry. I know your friend feels your love and will need your support for years to come. Hold onto your mustard seed of faith. Through God, all things are possible.
Stacey, I am sorry to hear about your loss and appreciate you sharing some of your grief with us today. I like how you’ve gone with Maragaret’s prompt as well as moving onto your own–sounds like a great scaffolded practice for students as well.
Stacey, I am sorry for the sadness you are carrying. I’m lifting you up from Iowa (via NZ). I have always liked the mustard seed image/metaphor. Hold on to that seed. Thank you for finding–and sharing–lovely words on a dark day.
Love, Allison
I love how this set of poems sees two plants in different ways – but still returning to the theme of hope. Thanks for sharing your own photo, too! It’s a literal bright spot in in this day!
Stacey, I am so sorry for your loss, for the heaviness you carry today – for your friend’s horrible loss. You are right, every day is a gift.
Thank you for these two precious haikus. The combination of “mustard seed of faith” in the first with “sweet hope for this day” in the second is so uplifting.
Stacey,
Love these lines:”I can do all things/With a mustard seed of faith.” Just beautiful.
Stacey — I love “mustard seed of faith” … that’s all it takes perhaps. I like that idea. And it’s good to see that hope-full yellow flower making its way. Precious. Hugs, Susie
Stacey, what a perfect final line! Gorgeous poem and photo!
Stacey, I’m so sorry to hear this. My heart aches for your friend. Life is so fleeting. Yes, treasure every moment. ?
Yes, Stacey the Mustard Seed of Faith gets us through these sad, tragic events. So sorry to hear about your dear friend.
Speaking as a young widow, we all need golden light to lean on. I’m sure your dear friend will see that in you.
Stacey, thank you for writing and sharing these today! You and your close friend are in my thoughts!
Oh, Stacey, “with a mustard seed of faith” and “Sweet hope for this day” you will carry on. May your friend find peace and strength to get through these days ahead. Peace to you too.
Rooted
You will please see well
the leaves on our hydrangea
replanted times three–
they stretch higher now root-ful,
brave in a new beginning.
Sarah, it may not have been your intent, but I received a life-lesson in your poem. Keep trying, keep planting seeds, and await the unexpected heights from new beginnings.
Total love!
The long e sounds of please, see, leaves pleases my ears as I look for that brave hydrangea fighting for survival.
Sarah,
I always love a play on words through formatting–“root-ful” is running in many directions in my interpretation here. Thank you and good luck with your new beginnings this school year.
This poem is one of such pride – “You will please see well…” Perhaps this poem is not written with the photo in mind, yet I am imagining the grass of Margaret’s picture ‘introducing’, welcoming the healthy, growing hydrangea – perhaps the grass is standing just at the side, like a new parent, cheering on the “brave in a new beginning.”
Sarah,
Love this image of hydrangea growing as a metaphor for new beginnings and the necessity for strong roots.
Hi, Sarah — loved seeing you working with that hydrangea…I’ve been working with mine as well…the heat of this summer has been hard on these water lovers. I love that “new beginning.” Aaah. Yes. “Rooted” is a great word, great title…root is a power word methinks. Sending best wishes for this new school year! Susie
Sarah, the action in your poem is exquisite. Love root-ful and the final line is sublime! Perfect title, too!
Margaret, thank you for today’s prompt. For my poem I chose to follow your lead and use the modern haiku form.
Summer Grass
Green summer grass —
an entire universe.
Make time to sit,
meet those living in the grass.
© JenniferKowaczek August 2022
I’m thinking of continuing on with this.
Jennifer,
I am loving these reflections on grass, which as been brown here in Oklahoma for months now. Your poem gives life to all that flourishes when our world is hydrated “an entire universe.”
Sarah
Jennifer,
This is lovely. Zit had a Walt Whitman quality to it. Certainly, the grass is a lovely carpet on which to frolic away time.
Jennifer, this poem captivates me! It beckons me to journey out to find the green grass waiting!
Ahhhh, woosahhhh!
Gorgeous!
?
Summer grass Is a universe, an ecosystem, life under the weeds. Thanks for the reminder.
Jennifer,
I am pondering your line “meet those living in the grass” and how this space is an entire universe to some. Thank you for your words today and good luck continuing it.
Love this “meet those living in the grass” – beckoning to meet these beings exactly where they are. Just lovely.
You are so right, Margaret! We all need to find some time to sit and look around. Thank you!
Clipping
Green grasses
arching
repetive
curling low
and hiding their tips.
Some blades
rebelling
reaching
straight upward
thinking they might
reach heaven
before being cut down.
This is great, Susan. Your poem reminds me of a fun book by Laurie Keller and Mo Willems — We Are Growing!
Wishing I remembered that book sooner.
Susan,
I like to think of teachers (and students) as “blades/rebelling/reaching” as my mind is on the start of the school year here. Also, hoping I don’t inadvertently cut any down.
Sarah
Susan, ❤️ the personification of grass and the progressive verb forms: arching, curling, reaching, etc. They give the grass the physicality of humans
Those grasses were rebelling and reaching. Great imagery to capture in your poem.
There is such a pulse beat to this poem, with such short (often, just one word) lines. Love the idea of rebellious blades of grass reaching towards heaven!
Oh, the hopefulness of the grass in this poem! And such truth – some blades are rebellious and others so graceful. Love the perspective the title gives – the cutting being imminent.
Susan I love the imagery and personification. Aren’t we all like this grass, sometimes hiding, sometimes rebellious? Yet, in the end all end up the same. ?
What a lovely poem (and lovely picture of you and your grandchildren). After spending two weeks with the sea and sand (and wishing I could stay there forever), this was the perfect poem to celebrate the gifts Nature bestows on all us wherever we land. Thank you!
Beneath the brightest blade
and tallest flower,
a hunched, tangled clump
is content to cuddle
while the sun still shines.
Love this experience “content to cuddle” here within the this intimate space of a clump of grass, Ann.
Sarah
Ann,
Your poem is a lovely reminder to notice what lies beneath flowers, what gives these things life.
Very nice, Ann. I saw that hunched, tangled clump in the photo. I like that you gave it a personality of contentment.
I love how every writer finds a perspective and opens the image to me again and again.
“content to cuddle” – ahhh! I love this!
Ann, how lovely. I love that clump of grass “content to cuddle” in the sunshine. I’m glad you got to take time to come back inland, and enjoy the grass gift.
Upah Rising
from their prone
position in the jungle
Sumatra’s spine-chilling
Upahs with thick green torsos
ascend to yomp and yelp
their cat-like yowl and
excruciating bite spark
trepidation in imaginations
Glenda Funk
August 21, 2022
Glenda, your word choices paint a vivid image for me.
Thank you.
Glenda,
As often happens in our Open Writes, I read interpretively, figuratively across our poetry. I am imagining the factions that seem to be ascending all around schools to “yomp and yelp” to “spark/trepidation.” And then, I read into this again believe imaginations of freedom will ignore the “yowls” and persist. Love this poem.
Sarah
Love the alliteration of sounds in yomp, yelp, yowl.
I am mesmerized by the unknown (to me!) word “upah” – imagining a big cat or some sort of terrifying green reptile … you have definitely sparked “trepidation in [my] imagination”…yomp, yelp, yowl with a bite, oh my!
Ooo, Glenda — This is a learning poem for me for sure. I had never heard of an Upah, so your poem pushed me to find out more…I love when poems do that! OMG…these creatures are CREEPY! And your poem is right to offer the “spine-chilling” and “yomp and yelp…and yowl” and the weirdness of creatures we’ve never heard of. I found an article on cryptozoology and the Upah was right there! Yikes! Fascinating! Thanks for giving me the creeps! LOL! Susie
Glenda, another powerful poem. I love the fierceness of the sounds; the trepidation the sounds produce. “excruciating bite spark”…..wow, what a wonderful line! Fantastic poem!
Wow, I’m looking at that photo very differently now! The Upahs are much fiercer than they look. Those green torsos camouflage their bite.
Margaret, thank you. I had seen this photo before, and neglected to come back to participate. I loved revisiting it and all the poems previously written on your blog and here. What a bonanza of verse about one small photo. That is such a beautiful mark of language, isn’t it? In yours today I am really appreciating “listen to the wind through the grass” which causes me to listen and breathe and imagine. Here’s mine today:
fuzzy, glowing seed pods
readying for the next generation
held by a green nest of elders
Wow, Denise – – this echoes the poem of Margaret and her grandbabies, too, the holding of the next generation in the one before. The green nest of elders is such a beautiful feeling of support and protection. I love what you’ve done with the photo – it needed this poem!
“Held by a green nest of elders” a beautiful line and beautiful sentiment!
Oh, Denise, this ‘held by a green nest of elders” is such a comforting phrase know knowledge and knowing and patience.
Denise,
Wonderful family dynamic in your poem. I now have an image of a pregnant growth in my mind.
Another new perspective makes me say “aha”–“green nest of elders” is unique and helps me see this simple photograph as something much more complicated.
Oh, I love the ‘multi-generation’ lens on this grass photo – absolutely beautiful.
Love the invitation for brevity here, Margaret, as my time is torn between frantically enjoying these final days of summer and lolling through start-up week. Thank you for helping me stay ‘on this side’ just a bit longer! So cool to see what limiting the prompt can produce in variety.
Savoring Final Days
I strategically place the
thick rough thick blade
between the fleshy curved arc
of my two thumbs
hands cupped together
lick and purse my lips
suction them around
the boney curves
and blow a shrill vibration
a summer sound
waning in good company
with cicadas
lawnmowers
& ice cream trucks
Oh, what a beautiful memory you have described here! I love that this photo inspired it. It makes me want to go find a coarse piece of grass (something I don’t as easily find in the desert) and whistle away! I love the adding to the summer sounds with cicadas, lawnmowers and ice cream trucks!
Denise, your “frantically enjoying” says it all, and then you slow us waaaay down to enact the small summer pleasure of sounding in tune with a blade of grass. “waning in good company” signals an ending, but a friendly one.
I love this poem and the summer memories it evokes though I must confess a bit of envy since, try as I might, I could never make grass sing like childhood friends did.
Denise,
This is wonderful. You’ve brought memories of old men whistling g through the grass pursed between their lips to my mind.
What a memory of blowing on grass! I could never do it but had friends who could. Great imagery in this poem.
Your words have sent me back in time – to a much slower-paced summer day! Such a universal memory, to blow through a blade of grass. Love this!
Margaret, I love this prompt! I often write small poems for photos I have taken, to help me remember the moment. This was lovely! It is so interesting to all observe the same picture and write. I love your line, “Listen to the wind through the grass” – there is real movement within this photo.
Here’s mine –
what of these seeds
what of these seeds
where will they be sown
will they take root here
in the only place they’ve ever known
or carried on another’s wings fur shoe
transforming someplace new
will they be met with resistance or welcome
are they alone
will these be the only seeds sown
somewhere deep within the dark cool recesses
is something all new taking root
what will the welcome be?
Maureen, the future of the seeds is a compelling question – I never thought about the seeds when I looked at the photo. I enjoy reading all the different ways each poet sees the photo – and sees the things not seen, too.
Maureen, what a neat, unique perspective to take! Beautiful job thinking outside of the box and presenting us with some questions and images that provoke question and thought. Lovely! And loved the rhyme. 🙂
This is a really beautiful poem Maureen. I’ll be thinking about it all day. Earlier this season a number of volunteers graced my garden and I wondered about their origin. Seeds (or strangers or broken shells) may travel far, but it is always about the welcome, isn’t it?
Maureen, you have really made me feel the dampness of the dark cool recesses of a seed taking root. You also made me think about all the possibilities that can happen during propagation. Yes, what of these seeds!
Maureen,
These are wonderful questions to ponder. So many possibilities for those seeds, and now I wonder about our role in helping them migrate via our shoes. It’s another reminder to be careful where we step.
I enjoyed following your thinking about the seeds and what they will become. Deeper wisdom poem.
Oh, I love the thought of the seeds “carried on another’s wings fur shoe” – “What of these seeds, indeed. You have made us think of big new ideas with your point of view.
Margaret and Heidi both,
I loved the peace of your poems. Margaret, I loved the omniscient voice that I felt preent in yours; Heidi, I loved the unconventional syntax: arresting! Here is my effort, a tanka:
“Growth”
Blessed, I drink in tears:
Sky Mother weeps for losses
and I become whole,
growing to maturity –
recipient of sorrow.
You captured such wisdom in your tanka (one of my favorite forms). I love “Sky Mother weeps for losses.” She does and we feel comforted by her embrace.
Wendy, I love that you thought of Native American origins in Sky Mother. My mind went immediately to Chief Seattle’s message this morning, but my poem didn’t take the direction I’d thought it might. You hit a homerun with this one! I love the web of life feel.
Kim, I’d never read his speech before (at least, not in recent years) — how beautiful and prescient. Especially:
“Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.”
I love the tanka form, Wendy; it provides a little more space for imagery or story, and, in your case here, both. It is beautiful. The juxtaposition of blessing with weeping and growth is fascinatingly true.
What a wonderful idea! Having people write about the same image will illicit such diverse writings yet they will be unified by being inspired by the same source!
Breaking Through
A tangle of grass
with myriad shades of green
criss-crossing each other.
Through the tunnel
flanked by watchmen
the army of bugs parade
Back in the darkness
a portal to another world
offers entry
Freedom from predators
no sentries to stalk movement
no cover that suffocates.
It’s a long way back there
but the trek is worth the trouble.
A life of bliss–and oasis–awaits.
21 August 2022
Susan, I think this is my favorite stanza
Through the tunnel
flanked by watchmen
the army of bugs parade
I love the army of bugs parade. I see serious little critters with their uniforms, all in line, marching through the grass. You put a smile on my face this morning just thinking about those little bugs and their commitment to their work.
Susan, I loved your focus on the grass-dwelling creatures here and your personification of them. Despite your characterizing them as an army in Stanza 2, I felt affection for them! And I loved the shift halfway through to their lives in darkness — and loved the last two lines. A very cool little piece. 🙂
On a summer tour of Costa Rica, I watched leaf cutter ants in awe of their march through the forest with huge-to-them pieces of leaves. Bugs can be fascinating creatures. I love how you began with a “tangle of grass”. I also appreciate your comment about the diverse musings being ties together by the photo source. That’s what I love about doing this exercise.
Susan,
This reads like a fantasy story! Maybe it’s the Game of Thrones sequel on my mind, but you’ve given me such clear, strong images of a fortress and its defenses. Love it!
So much life is lived that we cannot see — makes me recall what a coastal expert once said to a group of us educators: “The beach is alive.” So too are the stories in the grass – so well-captured, Susan.
Margaret, you’re an endless source of inspiration. I feel like I could write about this photo all day, in the directions that the grass beckons me… love the wind in the grass as Earth’s song in your modern haiku and the directive to ‘Listen’. Nature offers so much peace and healing if we would do so… that’s the path I took today. Thank you for this and for sharing Heidi’s profound found poem as well.
Release
I savor
the secrets
of grass
in its returning
again and again
to a scarred surface.
I savor its growing
here in tangled profusion
with yellow foxtails
beckoning in the breeze
in the knowing
that when there comes
a mowing
the inner balm
ever-flowing
secretes itself
across the brokenness
releasing its sweetness
in the air.
What I savor
most of all
is breathing
the fragrance of grass
healing itself.
And: I also savor that photo of you and those gorgeous grandchildren! It’s the very picture of joy.
The secrets of grass, indeed! I found myself listening throughout and finding peace within the knowing, mowing, ever-flowing soothingness of that rhyme dropping in the middle (its own inner balm). Beautiful words and imagery, Fran.
Fran, the power of nature to restore and heal is miraculous, and your poem today reminds us that of all the prescriptions and remedies and potions we can seek, nature is by far the most effective healer! Your words are powerful – the savoring, breathing, healing, releasing, ever-flowing, beckoning, returning…..grass stays the course, renewing itself time and time again.
Fran, this was just lovely, both in sound and sense! Love the rhyme of “knowing” and “mowing” and how organic the rhyme was to the sense of the poem. And appreciated the hope-filled sentiments, especially here:
“in its returning
again and again
to a scarred surface.”
and here:
“the inner balm
ever-flowing
secretes itself
across the brokenness”
And the “fragrance of healing” was a beautiful phrase. Lovely imagery!
A breath of mown grass is such a difficult thing to describe but you have done it here, “inner balm…releasing its sweetness.” Savor is a wonderful word choice.
Fran, your poem sits beautifully side-by-side with the one that popped into my inbox courtesy of Poem-A-Day: I love the physical science of “scarred surface” and “secretes itself.” https://poets.org/poem/depths-grass?mc_cid=f3524f1038&mc_eid=0bf8b2372a
Fran, this is lovely. I love thinking about the inner balm ever-flowing that comes from a mowing. Thank you for reminding me of the sweet fragrance.
Fran . . .
These lines really hit me:
Waiting for sun
but buffered by wind,
she’s forever bent
but never broken;
the morning’s spoken
as daylight sings
Kevin, your lines
she’s forever bent
but never broken
are lovely here – – like the strong women we all know and love. They hold on during the fiercest storms and savor the moments of sunlight.
oooooh! love the riddle vibe you’ve got going on in this. I’ll bet students would love it and write more.
Kevin,
Appreciated your personification, and loved the final, triumphant image of the last two lines.
A song for the grass… “as daylight sings.” Your daily writing of small poems inspires me.
Forever bent but never broken…my heart sings with the daylight here. So beautiful, Kevin.
Kevin,
So beautiful and so succinct.
Kevin, this has a sort of music to it…I wish I’d read it early this morning…I love the “broken” /”spoken” and the sense that daylight “sings.” Susie
Margaret, thank you for hosting us today! The photo of you and your grandchildren is priceless – – so much life, so much wonder and happiness! You are blessed – they are precious!
Grass
one GPS point
home to each green blade, anchored
in rooted scalp hugs
earth’s trendy hairstyle
no St. Patrick’s dye needed
nature’s adornment
wildlife welcome mat
carpet for little critters
sustenance for some
picnic piazza
frisbee freeway for Fido
Rip Van Winkle’s bed
recess football field
Emerald City pathway
the road less taken
stargazing blanket
lush mattress for lovers in
hand-holding heaven
Kim, your revisioning of grass from/for multiple points of view reads like a field, each stanza a separate blade offering a further glimpse, a different world, an invitation, a place of rest. So welcoming.
All the uses and comforts of grass – I love it -cool and metaphorical— and the reference to Frost is the hidden part.
Rip Van Winkle’s bed! Oh, how I love that story and play from 5th grade. You just sent me back decades into a happy time. And, star is my one little word for ’22. I may have to do something with that line, “stargzing blanket” so pretty!
Kim, I loved the structure here with the successive haikus: each stanza held a unique image, and I loved the way you used sound and the words and images rolled off the tongue: beautiful job!
I am always amazed at how many different forms can emerge from one single photo. This list poem of possible views is inviting, all the things “picnic piazza” “frisbee freeway” I never would have imagined. My favorite “stargazing blanket.”
Kim,
Bravo! This is a wonderful series of haiku. I love the “grass can be whatever it wants to be or whatever we want it to be” ethos. I can’t pick a favorite!
Awe-inspiring haiku once again, Kim! In this fantastic kaleidoscope of imagery, grass attains a whimsical, magical, even poignant quality. A sense of celebration is inherent throughout. Grass poetica. I love every line!
Oh, Kim . . . so many different looks at grass. I love this stanza:
So often nature provides color that can’t be replicated with articifiality.
Kim — I love the different takes on grass…Mama Nature’s hair (love that). And the image of lovers in the grass looking at stars and holding hands…awww… so sweet. And I grin at the “frisbee freeway” — all such clear images. Way to go! Susie
Oh, wow! So many gorgeous images of enjoying the grass. It goes from one to another. My mind was lighting up with memories as I read through slowly. Some of my favorites: “frisbee freeway for Fido” and “earth’s trendy hairstyle” Lovely!
Margaret, you’ve created something beautiful from what appears to be simple. It’s a moment for breathing and calm.
Grass
There’s a face in there
Elongated nose
Above the philtrum
Angular jaw
And a hint of a smile
Ah, that hint of a smile…personification example ready for a classroom wall poster! It’s perfect
Jennifer, your use of pareidolia here had me searching for a face to humanize this landscape…and I think I found one. 🙂
I loved your use of the words “elongated,” “philtrum,” and “angular” — descriptive, and juxtaposed nicely with the brevity of the words in the first and last lines.
I see that face with a little imagination, and I see what you did with that new word philtrum. (Or at least I recognize it for the first time ever from my rabbit-holing of yesterday.)
It’s fun to see what others see. “a hint of a smile” makes me smile.
Jennifer, we often love to watch the clouds out where we live. We saw George Washington last weekend while we were sitting on a driveway on the farm – his profile and curls and all. But this grass watching for patterns and forms – what a fun new way to look at the world! We gaze to the heavens and rarely look at our feet for these fun images. That hint of a smile is playful and inviting to play hide and seek!
This is so fun! I love finding faces in nature. Learned a new word as well – philtrum. Thanks.
Jennifer,
How clever! A grass ink blot test. Why not! We see faces in clouds and on tree bark Surely they must grow in the grass too!
I am grateful the grass is smiling, somewhat. Were the grass scowling…how ominous that would be! How our brains love faces…I see them everywhere (should I confess that out loud online?). Oh, how your lines send me on fantasy story imaginings!!
Oh, Jennifer…great idea to see the face in the image…it reminds me of a shower I had years ago that had that marble-looking fiberglass enclosure…the swirls in the pattern always looked like various faces and bodies…”hint[s] of a smile.” Yes…so darned creative, you are! Susie
The photo of the grass may be today’s prompt, but I am in love with the photo of you with your grandchildren! The happiness that radiates from you is what every grandmother should be blessed with.
meadow wildflowers
surround her, ground her, crown her
sunday’s grandbabies
Such sweetness, here, Linda. In both your words and Margaret’s photos and grandbabies. You’ve added softness to both sides of the strength found in those verbs: surround, ground, crown – love the assonance.
Linda, that photo of Margaret and the grandbabies is precious, and I love how you shifted the focus to the far more engaging photo – – what can be better than the smiles of beautiful children all piled up in their grandmother’s lap? The rhymes in the second line of your haiku and the repetition are perfect!
Linda,
Love the easy and organic rhyme in your second line! And your last line made me smile. Beautiful, joyful start to our writing today!
Aw, thanks, Linda. This is truly the joy of my life. My pregnant daughter is here this weekend and I can’t get enough of touching her belly and feeling grandbaby #4. Such a miracle!