Poetry Friday: A Brief Visit

Writers try new things.

Writers embrace imperfection.

Use your writer’s eye and tell me what you see.

Sometimes you see ideas coming from the side.

What does it remind you of?

What surprises you?

These are quotes from an NCTE session with Cynthia Lord, Erin Dionne, Linda Urban and Melissa Guerrette. As they shared, I thought of my students.

Today, I think of Poetry Friday. I’ve tried before. Posted once or twice. But failed to continue. No inspiration. No time.

The truth. I think poetry digs to a place that’s personal and uncomfortable. Today, I’m taking the advice I plan to dish up to my students. Embrace imperfection and try. Use my writer’s eye and look out for something that might be coming from the side.

Thank you to Carol at Carol’s Corner, who hosts this week’s Poetry Friday roundup. Thank you to the brave teacher poets that share and wait patiently for me to try again.

A Brief Visit

Woken in darkness I hear drip, drip.

Water has come home?

We’d given up green and fruit for sunbleached rock and barren soil.

I walk into cool, dark, waterless air

and touch a tiny pool that clusters

at the base

of a gutter.

Nearby leaves cling to damp remains

as sun breaks

the grey sky.

©Julieanne Harmatz

 

7 thoughts on “Poetry Friday: A Brief Visit

  1. What a nice image you have drawn here with your words! Love that you are here living in the discomfort and embracing your poet within.

  2. Considering I live in an arid climate, I love this, Julieanne, one thing I would celebrate again and again. You’ve captured a lovely moment. Love you are here, doing what you say your students will soon be doing!

  3. Julieanne, welcome and welcome again! Your peripheral poet’s vision is very keen. I love these lines:
    “Water has come home?
    We’d given up green and fruit for sunbleached rock and barren soil.”
    So specific.

    Dew drop in again!

  4. Julieanne, welcome and welcome again! Your peripheral poet’s vision is very keen. I love these lines:
    Water has come home?
    We’d given up green and fruit for sunbleached rock and barren soil.

    So specific! Dew drop in again.

  5. Hoping this venture into poetry writing nourishes you like the rain that fell on your “sunbleached rock and barren soil.”

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