Florida.
What a place!
Maybe we’ll cross paths
with what is unexpected
with our own true selves
Haiku 6 — April 6, 2017
Haiku 5 – April 5, 2017
I spent the day at a vibrant school full of eager students.
I left feeling lucky, happy — and exhausted.
Tomorrow’s more of the same.
But here’s what was waiting for me afterwards, just a few miles down the road!
Swoooooon…..
Haiku 5
After a long day
there’s something about water.
I become the sand.
Haiku 4 — April 4, 2017
Today is my birthday, folks, and it is a BIGGIE. Like, the biggest one so far.
And I could grieve or freak out but honestly, how lucky am I to be alive and well?
So I intend to celebrate for weeks and weeks.
But today? Today I hopped on an airplane and flew to Florida for a few days of school visits.
It felt funny at first — leaving my family and my little stack of presents behind — but tonight, poring over my Powerpoints for tomorrow, I’m realizing it’s really an affirmation that I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing. I may be 50 but I’m happy, and standing tall in my boots. Lucky me.
Haiku 4
Grass isn’t greener
but so many places feel
just like home to me
Haiku 3 — April 3, 2017
When you have a senior, the days are full of grand finales and rituals and good-byes.
It’s thrilling and crushing at the same time.
Last night was the swim banquet, where the seniors were gifted purple towels and signed kickboards. Tomorrow is sure to be another milestone. Life goes on and on and on.
Haiku 3
Your old team’s with you
swimming laps in a new pool.
You’re never alone.
Haiku 2 — April 2, 2017
Welcome, my friends, to another National Poetry Month.
This is my ninth April dedicated to writing daily haiku.
I’d love for you to join me!
Haiku 2
In the key of C
Sunday morning storms outside
become song in here
Haiku 1 — April 1, 2017
Yep. Again with the haiku. It’s been nearly a decade now that I’ve devoted my April to haiku.
It’s National Poetry Month. This is my practice. Here goes…
Haiku 1, April 1
What’s necessary?
What’s luxury? What’s pure fun?
Clear the mind. Start fresh.
Happy April my friends!
xoxoxo
Poetry Project — March 2017
Tanita gifted us this lovely photograph as source material for our ekphrastic poems this month. (Crediting the Creative Commons…)
I played around with complicated forms and longer narratives but in the end I settled on this response, both short and simple. Enjoy it, and then go and read the others…
The Persistence of Trees
When a girl can’t reach
what she wants or needs
she grows up into herself,
the way a tree might stretch
deep from its taproot
into the generous cup of sky
in order to get the necessary
light, the light necessary
for it to flourish, to transpire,
to eventually cast
its own shadow.
Poetry Project — February 2017
The assignment? A villanelle.
The theme? Brevity, shortness.
The irony? Running out of time!
So let’s call this one a draft, shall we?
Just in under the wire.
Phew!
Stitch In Time
By Liz Garton Scanlon
Let’s make it quick – this hour’s not my own
I catch a borrowed breath but don’t exhale
The stitch in time has already been sewn
Each moment passes – sinks just like a stone
The second hand a whip that raises wales
Let’s make it quick – this hour’s not my own
But can a heartbeat really be postponed?
I hurry, my old story sounding stale
The stitch in time has already been sewn
The wormhole dropped through, wrinkle blown
The minutes meted out on God’s grand scale
Let’s make it quick – this hour’s not my own
but does it matter when I cut this close to bone?
What if I stop and let the measured gears derail?
The stitch in time has already been sewn
I rip the seams and start again alone
Shake off the fetters, lift the veil
And just like that, the hour is my own
The stitch in time, so carefully re-sewn
My pal’s poems:
Laura
Kelly
Tanita
Tricia
Sara
And for more wonderful everything, Poetry Friday is here…
Be well, my friends….
Poetry Project — January, 2017
A new year would be incomplete without new poetry! I’ve gathered with my sisters-in-words once again to debut a new set of poems each month — all focused on a certain form, or theme, or both. I know — it sounds like last year. And the year before. But this time, of course, with new assignments!
So we’re starting with the Somonka — a Japanese form that is really just two tankas put together like love letters — so imagine two voices speaking the different stanzas. The rules for a tanka are five unlined rhymes, with 5/7/5/7/7 syllables, respectively.
I loved this form, and wrote several, but they all ended up with too much snark and not enough sweet. I’m sorry about that. I have a heck of a head cold. But regardless, here they are and let’s hope I’ll have softened up by next month. 🙂
A Love of Winter
Air brisk & cheeks pink
I love you, January
Everything feels new!
I jump out of bed for you
(Except when I just cannot)
Feckless southerner
I put my all into this
Thirty-one whole days
But you’re only game for three
Unrequited, I freeze up
Forget-Me-Not
Breakfast is at five
You forget, so I wake you
You’re so forgetful
You cup my ears in your hands
Ask, “Who’s this? Who’s a good boy?”
You stand under me
When I turn I nearly trip
Furry reminder
I’m not alone – you are here
You are always here for me
A Good Soak
Yes, I’m claw-footed
but I run hot and heavy —
I hold you, my dear,
in my porcelain embrace,
while you try to slip away.
I come for comfort
I long to be warm and held
but this is too still
and confining. Lethargic,
I find I must pull the plug.
To read more of these, click here!
Tricia
Sara
Laura
Tanita
Kelly
And for Poetry Friday, head to TeacherDance!
Poetry Project — December 2016
I’m on the road so am not able to devote time to a more lengthy post, but as the years comes to a close I’m grateful to have my Poetry Sisters with me, as always.
This month, we tackled another ekphrastic — using photos Andi took at Glencairn’s Cloister at the Glencairn Museum in Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania.
It looks to be a place of pure, loveliness and it inspired this from me:
Look Up
Liz Garton Scanlon
There are times (like these)
when being somewhere beautiful (holy, almost)
becomes not just pleasant but necessary,
when being somewhere old (and lasting)
becomes not just reassuring but the way
to stay upright, as if a stone column could
serve as a spine, as if a medieval cloister
were the four chambers of one’s own heart.
There are times when we need to see (and trust)
that even granite can be carved into wool
and wings, that even the hardest wall
might soften in the face of dappled sunlight
and someone’s grand ideas.
There are times when we need to see (and trust)
that even when surrounded by manmade concerns,
we are lifted by looking up (by following)
the golden eagle and turtle dove into the sky.
And here are the others:
Sara Lewis Holmes
Kelly Fineman
Tanita Davis
Laura Purdie Salas
Tricia Stohr-Hunt
Andi Sibley