Last week's poetry stretch was to write about something you'd find "behind the museum door." This week's challenge is to write about something you can find or see outside your window.
I sit beside an enormous picture window that looks out on a yard full of birds and feeders. It is where I stare while I'm trying to write, though I've never written about it. I can also clearly see the view outside the picture window in the house I grew up in, as well as the view from the kitchen window. It's one I spent years looking out over while washing and/or drying dishes.
Do you have a favorite window from a home you live in today or from one in your past? Share a poem with us about something outside that window. Leave me a comment about your poem and I'll post the results later this week.
I sit beside an enormous picture window that looks out on a yard full of birds and feeders. It is where I stare while I'm trying to write, though I've never written about it. I can also clearly see the view outside the picture window in the house I grew up in, as well as the view from the kitchen window. It's one I spent years looking out over while washing and/or drying dishes.
Do you have a favorite window from a home you live in today or from one in your past? Share a poem with us about something outside that window. Leave me a comment about your poem and I'll post the results later this week.
Looking Out My Bedroom Window
ReplyDeleteOnce a field where day and night
rabbits, possums, turkeys, deer,
even bobcats and bears crossed the long grass,
predator and pray, you know—
that old exciting story full of danger.
Now my daughter’s cozy Cape,
the slatey blue of a February sky,
let’s me know with window light
that she and my granddaughters
are safe, eating, showering, reading
the homey stuff, not fight and flight.
The bobcat still crosses, unafraid,
through her back garden some days.
The bear occasionally strides down her driveway,
glancing hungrily at the kitchen door,
exclamation point reminders of times passed.
We give away wild for comfort,
for safety, for family, forever,
but sometimes it is a story,
the story, we need to hear.
C Jane Yolen 2009
This comment is for Jane: Last year, I heard you read Encounter with the Symphony in Springfield. It was quite an experience for the children at my school since we'd been studying Puerto Rico and using art to tell the story. Several of my students' drawings were projected behind you. Your reading was amazing, the pacing with the music was excellent as well as the interpretation. What happened to the recording?
ReplyDeleteIt was a recording just for internal use because in order to make an actual recording, it would be incredibly expensive, getting permission from everyone in the orchestra, how to split up royalties, etc.
ReplyDeleteJane
Love this idea...perfect for all the garden I did this weekend outside my living room and bedroom window.
ReplyDeleteNice poem, Jane.
ReplyDeleteWell, I think Spring has made it to Seattle - but here's what I saw for quite a few days this winter:
Wide window -
Lady Snow
leaves her glove
on the mullion
as she goes.
Just Outside My Window
ReplyDeletetiny buds on trees
lift their faces to the sun
drinking in the day
April Outside My Window
ReplyDeleteYesterday was spring.
Today high winds bring winter.
This should be March.
c 2009 Jane Yolen
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteNot a very literal window this -- but then the invitation was to poetry's window...
ReplyDeletehttp://naturalworlds.blogspot.com/2009/04/leaving-lost.html
Very rich prompt this week! I am loving these poems (especially the haiku). I wrote a triolet for Earth Day here.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely loved this challenge, I went haiku crazy, you will find these at http://theweekthatwas.wordpress.com
ReplyDeleteHere's my attempt:
ReplyDeleteWINDOW SIJO
Dear husband closes shutters
on days when temperatures soar.
All day. Empty house. Who worries
about dark shuttered windows?
Late afternoon. I open blinds to:
Light! And a room with a view.