I laughed a little
remembering you,
saw a glimpse of your smile
between two clouds,
felt the comfort only you could give,
wished you were here
for more than a
glimpse.
poem- hatted June 22, 2016
A jaunty hat catches eyes
inspires a smile.
A jaunty hat always tries
to beguile
but it’s too happy to seduce
its morals are not loose
That hat’s a joyful
welcome mat to fun.
poem-light June 9, 2016
It is dark here.
We have dug a den,
a hole to hide in.
Safe, secure, one entrance to guard
with snarling, snapping lunges.
Beyond the border we guard,
light illuminates.
We squint at silhouettes,
afraid of what lies behind.
The dark we know,
but light lures.
poem- rain May 27, 2016
We’re raining
damp permeates bones
sky slides claustrophobically close
Grey day
poem- broken May 25, 2016
If the broken pieces
didn’t blind him,
cripple him,
impale him,
perhaps he’d be free
to see her pain.
And seeing, to embrace it,
tame it, and more–
for her to show him
what she knows,
that slivers can be pulled,
that slats can be hammered,
that broken pieces can grow into crutches,
that the cracks of fractures
can be patched into a quilt
for a bed of nails.
Oh, he is broken, but
Comfort is where you find it.
poem- Star people May 24, 2016
We are all made of star dust
but some of us
are less star
than dust.
Star people cause ripples
in our complacency
raise our eyes
to skies.
poem-memorized May 20, 2016
Mrs. Filber’s daughter memorized Poe’s The Raven and recited it for her mother’s sixth grade class. Student Wanda reflected years later, “This was my first encounter with the power of poetry…How independent Mrs. Filber’s daughter was–she could conjure up this poem at any time in the future, enjoying it again and again!” (May, W. 1991. “The Arts and Curriculum as Lingering.” p. 145).
What power in memory
to pull from air,
call upon bardic traditions,
weave words around ears.
Captivate.
Infiltrate.
Enervate
with poetry.
.
.
(A little poetry inspired by my grad school reading today).
poem-entranced May 16, 2016
The swish of skirt swirling
in desert winds, beneath stars
that breathe her name,
captures your ear, and
urges you to hear murmurs
from heaven.
.
.
(Reading Jerry Spinelli’s Stargirl in class)
poem-realities May 4, 2016
It’s hard to love you
when you shred me,
slice my skin on the sharp tips
of those needle teeth.
It’s hard to love you
when you track mud,
make puddles, and leave
stinking pellets behind you.
It’s hard to love you
but your eyes twinkle,
and your tail wags
and you keep trying to climb into my lap
It’s hard to love you
but the hard things are worthwhile.
I’m building a love story
with training and time.
Shawn L. Bird 