National Poetry Month — Haiku 19

Posted

Our dog is 15.
Which is, as you know, 105 to you and me.
She is exceedingly slow and quite gimpy, nevermind the glucosamine and fish oil and all the rest.
And her eyes are gummy.
And she seems flat-out flummoxed sometimes. 
But she also sleeps with a smile on her face, wags whenever one of us walks into the room, and barks like a baby when we grab the leash and head to the door. 
So, we carry on…

Haiku 19
4/19/2010

Young dogs come sniffing
but the old dog turns away.
Smelled it all before…

National Poetry Month — Haiku 17

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I baked on Saturday. 
Which is kind of unusual, but can you blame me?


Haiku 17
4/17/2010

Green pears and chocolate 
were born to be together.
The chef laughs out loud.

Poetry Friday — Haiku 16

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On Friday I was not my desk because I was in San Antonio for the Texas Library Association Convention.
So many book-lovers all in one place, such good jujee.

I was there to see All the World take its place on the Texas 2×2 list (which names the 20 best books of the year for children from 2-years-old through 2nd grade) and to sign a whole heap of them for gracious librarians. Honestly, my luck just continues to astound me.

I also had lunch with the very wonderful Andrea Welch from Beach Lane Books.

Plus, I got to see/hug so many old and new friends, like Cynthia Leitich Smith and Greg Leitich Smith, April Lurie, Jessica Anderson and PJ Hoover, Chris Barton, Jennifer Ziegler and Bethany Hegedus, K.A. Holt, Lisa Railsback, Francisco X. Stork, Ruth McNally Barshaw and Laura Salas. And I’m pretty sure I’m forgetting someone.

It’s funny. When I head into something like the TLA Conference, I’m pretty sure that seeing all those folk is going to be overwhelming. I get scared/nervous/shy/catatonic. And then I go anyway, and everyone ends up being so crazy-nice, and I end up feeling so at home. Remind me of that next time I freak out pre-event, wouldja?

I drove home Friday afternoon as the rain dried up and the wildflowers glowed and I felt all full-up.
I really did…

Haiku 16
4/16/2010

Water sliding off
the thick umbrellaed branches;
rain redirected.

National Poetry Month — Haiku 14

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At our house, it’s officially spring when the CSA basket shows up on our stoop
every Wednesday morning, chock full of veggie goodness.
We all dive in, hoping for our favorites.

Salad greens? Check.
Beets? Later in the season.
Tomatoes? Coming!
Radishes? Help yourself!

This year, thanks to our current situation, the bounty looks particularly and auspiciously potent, in a cancer-fighting kind of way. Everything in there is fleshy and just-picked and full of what a body needs to beat back the bad and flourish.
And so we will eat it all.
We will savor and devour it. 
It is something we can do…

Haiku 14
04/14/2010

spinach, green garlic
sandy leeks with tender hearts — 
we are satisfied

National Poetry Month — Haiku 12

Posted

I spent the day at a very large elementary school today, where I spoke to every single student in the course of my visit.
it was daunting, but delightful.

No less than 5 children told me they were going to grow up to be authors.
(Actually, one said, "What are you again? ‘Cause that’s what I’m going to be!")
Later, one wide-eyed 3rd grader asked me if I was really famous.

But the best part of the day might’ve been when a class of 3rd graders surprised me at lunchtime with a poetry reading — their own original pieces. Most had them memorized and quite a few were very funny. There was a haiku about Disneyland, and a rhyming couplet about giving a beaver a fever. The kids were all so enamored with their own work, and so happy to share it in front of each other and me. Would that we could hang onto a little of that openhearted confidence over the years…

When I stepped out into the sunshine after the last session, I had to squint.
The day had gotten so pretty. And now the sun’s gone down but really, it still is…

Haiku 12
4/12/2010

half-glance at the sun —
behind low lids, a glowing
that will last and last