This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We are here every month. The next Open Write is June 21-23.

Our Host

Sarah J. Donovan, PhD, is a former junior English language arts teacher of fifteen years and current Associate Professor of Secondary English Education at Oklahoma State University (since 2019). She wrote the young adult novel, Alone Together (2018) and is the co-author on several books on poetry Rhyme and Rhythm: Poems for Student Athletes, Teachers Writing to Bridge the Distance, 90 Ways of Community, and Words that Mend. Two forthcoming books include Teaching Poetry in a Digital World: Inspiring Poetry Writing through Technology in Grades 6-12 and Writing to Learn Across Content Areas: Poetry as Formative Assessment. Sarah is the founder of Ethical ELA, a free resource for ELA educators to write poetry in community.

Inspiration

Erin Murphy is the author of more than a dozen books, most recently Fluent in Blue. This poem is a demi-sonnet, a seven-line form she invented. Her work has appeared in The Best of Brevity, Ecotone, Women’s Studies Quarterly, and elsewhere. She is professor of English at Penn State Altoona. www.erin-murphy.com

Illuminated

The night of the closest supermoon
in 70 years, I scrolled through Facebook
posts of friends’ photos. Peter’s was best:
the moon floated above a red barn
in Roaring Spring like an illuminated balloon
without a string. I’m ashamed to say how long
it took me to look outside at the real thing.

Originally published in Northern Appalachia Review, March 2022. Reprinted with permission of the author.

(Click the link above for the full poem and listen to Erin read her poem and discuss craft in the interview below.)

Process

Try a demi-sonnet:

  • 7 lines.
  • It’s formal without being, you know, strictly formal.
  • They are encouraged to end with a full or a slant rhyme. (An Emily Dickinson approved form.) Instead of a perfect rhyme where the ending sounds match exactly (like cat and hat), slant rhymes have slight variations in sound like hope and cup, bridge and grudge.
  • Erin describes them as “aphoristic” and something of an “elongated fortune cookie”
  • There’s no set syllable count.

In addition to encouraging some demi-sonnets today, I invite you to think about the speaker in Erin’s poem reflecting on distraction, awe, and missed moments. The poem highlights how easy it is to experience life through screens rather than firsthand, even with something as grand as a supermoon. The speaker realizes, perhaps too late, that they were more focused on digital images than stepping outside to see the real, luminous beauty in the sky. There’s a quiet critique of modern habits, but also a moment of self-awareness and regret.

Here are two poetry writing prompts inspired by it:

1. “The Moment I Almost Missed”
Write a poem about a time you were so caught up in something—your phone, work, a routine—that you nearly overlooked a beautiful or important moment. What made you finally notice it? Use sensory details to contrast what you missed with what you finally saw.

2. “Scrolling Past the Universe”
Write a playful poem about missing something extraordinary happening right outside your window that is entirely FICTIONAL (or maybe not). A meteor shower goes unnoticed, a parade of animals marches by, or the moon winks at you. Use humor and exaggeration to explore what distractions keep us from seeing the magic of the real world.

In my poem, I write a demi-sonnet about emptying my closet to prepare for moving out of our home on sabbatical for a year. I am only taking one bag with me.

Sarah’s Poem

Destore-ying the Closet for Sabbatical

She pulls apart the closet’s seams,
a season’s weight shed, thread by thread.
Espadrilles swallowed by a paper bag,
denim pile reduced to a single name.
What she can carry, she will claim—
sleeves folded tight as unfinished dreams,
shoes walking toward adventures, heel to tread.

Your Turn

Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.

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Najma Masood

A Wish for Every Child

Just like children across the world,
Who go to school with flags unfurled,

With help from leaders, hands held tight,
They learn, they grow, they chase the light.

My heart too dreams this noble way—
That every child in my land may

Walk to school with books in hand,
And knowledge like a shining band.

No child left out, no dreams denied,
Each skill and talent deeply tried.

Let them be strong, wise, and free,
To live their lives with dignity.

No hunger, fear, or silent cry,
But hope beneath a bright, wide sky.

Together learning, side by side,
With joy and peace as their guide.

Mo Daley

Najma, what a sweet wish for the children. Your rhyming couplets make me think of childhood- a happy time.

Najma Masood

Sarah,Your poem gently shows the beauty of letting go and starting fresh. The words are simple yet full of feeling, making the moment come alive.

Mo Daley

How on Earth did I miss this entire Open Write? Oh well. Better late than never!

Oops!
By Mo Daley 5/20/25

When did I become so wrapped up
in my house projects that I forgot to think outside myself?
Was it the moment they ripped out my uneven stairs
FOUR WEEKS AGO, so that I was forced to sleep
on the pullout couch (don’t even get me started!)?
But surely, now that I’m once again snuggled into my king-sized bed
I shouldn’t have forgotten to write the poem rattling around my head!

Denise Krebs

Mo, how fun! I’m glad I came back to see this, and I’m glad you let it out of your head and into these pages. Congratulations on getting your bed back! Yikes! Four weeks with the stairs out! Well done on your demi sonnet. I laughed at “(don’t even get me started)”

Sharon Roy

Thanks, Sarah, for hosting and congratulations on your sabbatical. Enjoy!

So much hope in these lines:

sleeves folded tight as unfinished dreams,

shoes walking toward adventures, heel to tread.

____________________________________________________

How many peaceful mornings did I waste
researching the perfect new morning routine?
How many yellow birds did I miss
checking online for the best spots?
Enough with the endless research
It’s time to see what the day holds
by letting it unfold.

Leilya Pitre

I agree, Sharon! The more we research, the more we miss. Yes, “letting it unfold” would be the best for me too. I like how you begin with questions and then slow down your pace by the end.

Dave Wooley

Ahh, the irony! There really is beauty in letting the day happen as it will. Great poem, Sharon!

Scott M

Sharon, thank you for this! I love this sentiment: “It’s time to see what the day holds / by letting it unfold”! We can definitely overthink things — reminds me of Hamlet (as most things do, lol) “And enterprises of great pith and moment, / With this regard, their currents turn awry, / And lose the name of action — which is just a long overwrought (lol) way of saying, go out there and see your “yellow birds” instead of googling ’em!

Stacey Joy

Sharon,
Your poem is so beautiful and true. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time searching and not realizing what I need is right in front of me. Thank you for a reminder today to appreciate what’s here right now. I love the flow and the rhyme. I don’t know why I struggled so much with mine.🤪

Mo Daley

Your poem made me smile, Sharon. Oh, the thought of missing those little yellow birds! Heartbreaking. Your poem is super relatable for me.

Najma Masood

You’re right.
Sometimes we plan so much, we miss the fun.
The birds, the breeze, the quiet sun—
all waiting while we scroll and think.
Maybe it’s time to just wake up,
stretch, smile, and see what happens.

Stacey Joy

Sarah, thank you again for hosting us. At first, I was a little sad about the 3 days instead of 5, but the way life is lifing, I’m relieved that I pulled off the 3 days. The demi-sonnet is new to me and hard for me so my flow probably didn’t match the suggested guidelines. I know the rules weren’t too strict, so I cut myself a little slack.

I read something from Erin’s website about “In my America” and let that inspire me.

In This America

In this America, government leaders lie. 
Unborn babies and freedom dreams die. 
In this America, statues beg of liberty 
and creeds bleed from disparities. Punks with pens 
sign policy with hate and immigrants hide 
in fear of the unknown. But this is the land 
they consider home. 

©Stacey L. Joy, 5/19/25

Sharon Roy

Oh Stacey,

So heartbreaking.

In this America, statues beg of liberty 

and creeds bleed from disparities. Punks with pens 

sign policy with hate and immigrants hide 

in fear of the unknown. 

Thank you for naming these sad truths.

Dave Wooley

Stacey,

I wouldn’t have guessed that you had any trouble with the form. You nailed it—and this is a damning indictment of where we are as a country. You deploy rhyming so affectively to punctuate your points. “Government leaders lie” and “freedom dreams die” could be about so many times, but that really encapsulates where we are.

Mo Daley

Stacey, somehow I missed the entire Open Write! Your poem is sad but so well done. the sounds work beautifully to convey your message.

Scott M

Things I’ve Missed while Cleaning My Glasses

that streaking double comet two summers ago,
that d-list celebrity getting into a taxi that one time,
and although I wasn’t there for the signing of the
Declaration of Independence (I wouldn’t have even
been able to make out John Hancock’s John Hancock),
I’m consciously cleaning my glasses for each new press
release to avoid seeing the latest (improbable) offense

___________________________________________________

Sarah, thank you for another engaging prompt!  And I love the “Destore-ying” of these items in your closet and that line – “sleeves folded tight as unfinished dreams” – is wonderful!

C.O.

Oh this is such a good take on the prompt. I have a scratch on a pair of sunglasses that really does change how I see (or miss) the world. Thanks for sharing your views in this lighthearted manner.

Dave Wooley

Glasses really are a gift and a curse. I fear even Elton John doesn’t have glasses big enough to clean that could get him past all of these avalanching offenses without seeing some of them!

I Can’t help but wonder who the celebrity is!

Stacey Joy

Doggone it, you did it again. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽
I struggled to think of what I missed when I was planning my writing today. I think you showed me how to be inspired differently. If that makes any sense! Perfect ending, and I agree with cleaning your glasses when it’s time for the next press release.

Mo Daley

Love it, Scott. Glasses are truly a blessing and a curse. There is so much to miss in this world, isn’t there?

Insert my infomercial for one of the world’s best products here: Peeps Glasses Cleaners. You won’t regret this purchase.

Jamie Langley

Sarah, thanks for introducing us to the demi-sonnet; I enjoyed thinking of an occasion where I’d clearly missed something.
beneath the surface

we swam out from the sand accompanied by my dad
my cousin and me

sea spread wide and flat from the shore to meet the sky
not more than 10 or 12 feet out

we reached our toes towards the bottom
not there, we turned around to swim back, wow

not so easy this in direction, no evidence of the under toe til now

C.O.

“not there” gives such a good visual and also panic when you can’t touch the bottom. This has layers and I love the title suggesting as much. Thank you for sharing and glad you swam out of it to write this poem!

Sharon Roy

Jamie,

Love this line:

sea spread wide and flat from the shore to meet the sky

I like how sparse your narration is, but how it’s enough to give us a sense of your surprise at

not there

Stacey Joy

Hi Jamie,
You’ve captured so much suspense in just seven lines. The beauty of the water and the sky mixed with losing contact with the sand below all pulls me in and reminds me of a similar experience when I was a teenager.

💜

Barb Edler

Sarah, thank you for your prompt today and for this first of three days Open Write session. I really appreciate your poem. The line “What she can carry, she will claim—” really resonates with me. Your end is also provocative. I hope this new adventure will be nothing but amazing and I’m certain it will be.

Summer Shadows

sunlight dappled water shimmered
as I slowly floated east—
mesmerized by iridescent wings,
I didn’t see tumultuous skies hovering,
building steadily like future calamities—
nor the bull snake lolling in a low hanging tree,
its forked tongue spoiling my river peace

Barb Edler
19 May 2025

anita ferreri

Barb, I feel as it I was a dragonfly floating east in your poem, enjoying the day oblivious to the danger that lies ahead. This is a captivating image that allows me to “see” the bright day with dark danger ahead.

Jamie Langley

Barb your description of your setting catches my attention in the first line. iridescent reflects the image cast in the first line, and then the tone shifts tumultuous skies, future calamities and ultimately the bull snake spoiling your river peace. Your words are like puzzle pieces creating the image of the moment.

C.O.

If this is a true story, I would love to hear the follow-up poem of the “future calamities” next! Fun word choice here

Leilya Pitre

Barb, you are so skilled at imagery– each line creates an image, and you weave in sound effects with alliteration and consonance all the time, like with “l”s here: ” nore the bull snake lolling in a low hanging tree.” The beautiful sunset is turning into something scary, and you transition seamlessly.

Kim Johnson

…..and just like that, weather and wildlife can take a moment and turn it around. I am there in that boat with you, Barb! Love the words that create the mood – – and I’ll be your snake handling girl – – I was born in the Okefenokee Swamp and know a few of ’em – – it’s the weather I fear more. Would love to float the river!

Dave Wooley

Barb,
This demisonnet feels like a haiku in disguise with all of the moments that you capture in this poem. I love the verbs that you use in the first three lines, but what really intrigues me is the “bull snake lolling in a low hanging tree”—again with the descriptive verbs and the idea of your peace being disturbed by the threat of the snake which really isn’t a threatening snake. So good!

C.O.

Thank you for linking to Erin’s work, I found some other inspiration there, too. I enjoyed this prompt and the formal yet informal rules. Made me stop and notice, something I’m bad at making the time and space to do.

notices

I’m sure at one point I noticed
the vice tightening in my stomach,
the cloak weighing down my shoulders,
the thoughts swirling loudly in my brain.
But like the dusty hum of the bathroom fan, one day you just stop noticing
until one of those notices goes missing.

Luke Bensing

Love it. Great poem C.O.

Barb Edler

Oh, C.O., I love the way your poem moves to its final line. I really enjoy the build towards the end too by the way you capture significant physical reactions to stress, etc. I especially could relate to the image of “the cloak weighing down my shoulders, the thoughts swirling loudly in my brain.” Fantastic poem!

anita ferreri

C.O., you captured the way “we” as busy and distracted people learn to live with (accept?) both physical and emotional discomfort until at one point it becomes like your magical line, “like the dusty hum of the bathroom fan.”

Jamie Langley

C.O. you begin with stomach tightening and cloak weighing – feelings not tied to a specific situation. Those broad sensations are then disturbed by the mundane bathroom fan. So relatable. Poetry juxtaposed with the mundane. Nice job. Jamie

Leilya Pitre

C.O., your poem nails the point about how often we miss noticing something until it’s gone. Such an important reminder to slow down and notice! Thank you.

Kim Johnson

The busy-ness of life and all its stress gets in the way of complete and total presence and noticing the things……I’m with you in these moments of tightening, weighing, swirling……

Stacey Joy

C.O.,
This poem resonates with me because I have shed those weights and don’t miss them at all.

🥰

anita ferreri

Sarah, the thought of packing a suitcase for a year sends me into the zone of, “How is this possible?” But, your post and request for a demi sonnet this morning also sent me into the zone of, “I just don’t think it’s happening!” My first thought was to pretend I didn’t see the prompt and my second thought was, “too busy!” Then, I thought of you again packing for a year and cleaning and organizing and the challenge settled into my heart. I knew of the series of reading experiences that I was glad I stopped to embrace.

We read “Little Blue Truck,”* every time, 
You helped me and I helped you.” 
Your damp locks next to my heart, 
Until the “Day the Crayons Quit,“* where you knew
Every single laugh, pun, joke in every single line,
Finally, you picked up “Dog Man,”* on your own
Smiling, while happy-sad tears welled in mine.

*Little Blue Truck (Schertle), The Day the Crayons Quit (Daywalt), and Dog Man (Pilkey) are popular children’s books that span the early reading experience for children (and their lucky Memes). The first two clearly try to weave themes and messages that children and their adult readers can embrace. Dav Pilkey knows what it takes to engage little readers!

Dave Wooley

Anita,

This is a brilliant poem–the moment when the little ones go from being read-to to being readers is a complicated triumph. those shared experiences are really precious moments.

Barb Edler

Anita, the progress of your poem perfectly delivers your final reaction. I do love children’s books and remember the first time reading “Day the Crayons Quit” Lovely poem and I can totally understand the happy-sad tears.

C.O.

This is so lovely. I love the movement in age and independence and relationship from book to book. So sweet. Happy you savored this and shared.

Leilya Pitre

Anita, love your poem so much! It is such a joy to see kids picking up the books. I saw it with my children and my grandkids now.

Kim Johnson

Anita, time/line/mine….you/knew….and such a heartfelt poem of sharing the tradition of reading together, the moments in books….being needed as the reader until the next reader blooms…..this is just perfect. So touching, so real. We want to raise readers, but those moments of wonder on little faces that we get to see aren’t as frequent once the reader blooms.

Luke Bensing

alone in the crowd

Am I the only one looking around?
Cannot I be the singular undocumentarian?
Audibly gasping and tsk tsk tsking as I
resolve for presence, for photographic memory,
but then I take out my phone and
document all the other documentarians.
I am not exempt, it seems.

Last edited 30 days ago by Luke Bensing
anita ferreri

Luke, I must admit to clarifying the meaning of documentarian as someone who relies on watching and witnessing! This is a clever rebuke on our national pastime: news and social media watchiNG!

Barb Edler

Luke, this feels like a graduation moment. Seeing all the smiling faces and then reconsidering your own choice to be in the present moment, taking out your own phone to snap a photo to commemorate the memory. Love that title!

C.O.

Definitely a moment we’ve all experienced. And a lovely commentary on how we document to remember in the event our own memory fails. The ending is peaceful to me, it’s not judging

Stacey Joy

Luke,
Yes!!! I commented on another poem that I wish I could’ve been inspired to look at what is right here. I love this.

Cannot I be the singular undocumentarian?

Lezley

YES! I catch myself doing this too! Great use of the word (& related words) document. “I am not exempt, it seems” – how often do I realize I am the exact thing I’m judging?

Dave Wooley

Sarah,
Thank you for hosting the open write this month and for the introduction to this new form! Your poem bursts with imagery, sort of like how you describe your closet! I love the idea of pulling apart the seams of the closet and the verb “shed” in the second line that could also kinda be a noun if you turn the line just a bit to look at it differently… Wishing you all the best on your sabbatical!

What do you notice

As I wade into the digital muck
pausing on a photo with barely there context
“Women protest” or “Men sitting” or President speaks”
Paired with the question “what do you notice?”
I notice you rattling the cage of my insecurities,
Cashing in my FOMO, picking time from my pocket–
How did I get to the scene of this crime, unable to stop it?

Luke Bensing

Dave, I find myself both relating to this poem as a whole but also wrestling with your last line pretty deeply. Thank you for sharing.

anita ferreri

Dave, your poem certainly questions the impact of all the “digital muck” viewing that compels us all to check our phones every time the bell dings of a message, news, abduction, funny view or gender reveal in East Timbuktu! Your last line makes me stop and think as well as turn down the sound on my notifications.

Barb Edler

Dave, I am also a victim to the “What do you notice” posts. I often have no idea what the reaction is supposed to be! Love your line “picking time from my pocket-” because that’s all those posts accomplish. Your final question is perfectly delivered and oh so provocative! Fantastic poem to show a relevant behavior in today’s world.

C.O.

Oooh the clickbait quality of this poem, too. So good. Love the crime, so relatable in so many ways .

Kim Johnson

Dave, pocket/stop it and speaks/insecurities are perfect slant rhymes and they fit seamlessly right into the poem with such a strong message today – – how did we get to the scene, indeed??!!

Clayton

Boxer quote:

” A one-legged Duck swims in a circle”

My life, spins in the ordinary extra,
Though, I visualize an extraordinary spectrum.
I have never given credit to my duck,
A spectacular webbed foot in purple.
 He swims in loops with one web,
Though men work…  to live- they must beg,
I am a duck that swims in a circle with one leg!

  • Boxer
Denise Krebs

Wow, this is really great to read. From that first line, one is drawn in “spins in the ordinary extra” Such effective word choice. I like the slant rhymes of extra/spectrum & web/beg/leg

anita ferreri

Clayton, your image of a “one legged Duck swimming in a circle” is both fun and also sad as it works hard and yet really does not seem to get out of its own way! Give credit to your hard working Duck, even if he really doesn’t move too far!

Leilya Pitre

Boxer, your duck, that “spectacular webbed foot in purple” deserves all the credits possible. Such an amazing revelation through seemingly lighthearted metaphor and tone. Thank you!

C.O.

Ordinary / extraordinary is a wonderful contrast between lines here. Nice word play throughout!

Denise Krebs

Sarah, thank you for hosting again with the beautiful cohosts from the YA collection. The demi sonnet is a fun twist. I love looking at your dwindling collection of clothes as “Destore-ying”. I need to do some of that myself, even thought I’m not moving into one carryon bag! Wow. Good luck! I love “walking toward adventure”. My poem surprised me today, but makes me more thankful for my partner in life.

His Hand

Sometimes our eyes look beyond
each other, misplaced in our musings–

Words spoken stray, do not respond.
These distractions of our losing–

Are they one of our future’s regrets
for when one sits alone? And yet, now,

here is your warm hand in mine.

Barb Edler

Denise, I love, love, love this poem. I adore how you open the poem, and I absolutely love the way you end this one. “These distractions of our losing-“…ooof, what a line! The pace, the image, the emotions all blend beautifully. Well don!

anita ferreri

Denise, you capture the magic of the moment when you love someone and have a longstanding relationship where words are not really necessary. This is absolutely lovely. I hoe you have a future with many years of their “warm hand” in yours.

C.O.

This is tender and thoughtful about being present with your people. I really love the ending. It brings it back to being present and focused on each other. Grounding. Thanks for sharing

Leilya Pitre

Denise, your poem resonates with me. I think when there is that someone in your life who is just there, just present, and it is the most important thing. We may not notice, acknowledge, or speak at times, but we know we are there for rach other. Love your poem, and that final line warms my heart. Thank you for your words!

Jamie Langley

Denise, your 7 lines span unmeasured time. Your first two couplets act as a set up. The third poses a question. As your closing words bring us to now. In a few lines you span what I imagine is a long time. Nice poem.

Margaret Simon

I love that ending line! It shows how the single moment is important. What matters is now.

Kim Johnson

I’m reminded of the Gaither Song We Have This Moment when I read your poem – – it’s all we have…..yesterday’s gone and tomorrow may never come, but we have this moment today…..this hand to hold. Sometimes I wonder if I should be doing more to maximize the time, but so much of the love is in the presence…..in the company…..in the safety of each other being our own people but together. I love this poem because I’m there thinking about it too.

Sharon Roy

Denise,

Your poem is so comforting. The simple reassurance of a loved one’s touch even after we’ve not paid proper attention.

here is your warm hand in mine.

Scott M

I’m with everyone else here, too, Denise; I love your poem! It is this “now,” this present moment, hand in hand, that is everything!

Leilya Pitre

Sarah, I can’t imagine how to pack one bag for a year of travel. You are my hero. This line makes me rethink my packing habits: “What she can carry, she will claim.” I want to be you when I finally grow up. We are leaving for our trip today, and I keep going back to our carry-ons and adding clothes. This is the first time we travel with carry-ons only because we will have three train trips once we are in Europe.
I am so afraid that I will be caught up in “preserving moments” instead of savoring them, so here is my demi-sonnet:

Filtered Paris
 
I aim, I crop, I frame the Eiffel right,
but blink and miss the sparkle in its light.
At Notre Dame, I zoom, adjust the glare
yet never smell the incense in the air.
The river gestures with a wink, a swirl—
but I’m too busy tagging #ParisGirl
Oh lens, you thief—I came to see the world!

Denise Krebs

Leilya, you are on a poetic high these days. Another stellar poem. From the title to the direct address to your camera lens in the last line, it is all perfection. I’m glad you will not be succumbing to this filtering now that you’ve written this.

Ann E. Burg

Leilya, I can’t imagine you would ever miss the sparkle in its light. It seems to me that you appreciate beauty everywhere (and spread it too). I love how you personify the river and the lens! Happy Travels, my friend!

anita ferreri

Leilya, you capture so wonderfully the line in the sand that we all cross between being in the moment and capturing that moment to remember it. Yes, our cameras and our phones are theives!

Barb Edler

Wow! I can completely relate to your poem. It’s crazy how we miss out on so much by trying to actually capture it through our phone cameras, etc. I love how you incorporated rhyme into this poem and applaud your title. Your last line is simply delightful, and I appreciate your light-hearted tone!

C.O.

The title is great! And I am often torn here of “being present” and “capturing memories” – there are places for both. I love the clever references to cameras and posts. Well done, #ParisGirl

Margaret Simon

I laughed at #ParisGirl! Have a wonderful trip. I hope you do find time to soak it all up!

Kim Johnson

Best last line of a travel poem ever. I hope your trip is amazing and that you see the world through the eyes and not the lens…..I can’t wait to see some pictures and hear about all you experience! Safe travels.

Sharon Roy

Leilya,

this is fantastic. I, too, love to take photos, but indeed the mediation of the lens can be a distraction from the experience.

Oh lens, you thief—I came to see the world!

Brilliant!

Safe travels and enjoy your trip.

I’m a firm believer in only ever bringing carry ons. I’m curious to know if you’ll feel that way after this trip.

Leilya Pitre

Thank you, Sharon! You are always so generous and kind with comments!
I will let you know how it feels with a carry-on for 16 days.

PATRICIA J FRANZ

Destore-ying! I don’t think I will look in my closet the same way ever again.

Don’t Look Away

I’m sure you were just in kindergarten last year.
Begged me not to enroll you in soccer– it would interfere

with your search for crystals in backyard gravel.
I looked away but a moment. You unraveled

time, leapfrogging Little League and Eagle scouting,
announcing that you would build rockets. Now

your son toddles after a soccer ball. Don’t look away.

Leilya Pitre

Patricia, this is the first thing I thought about this morning. We miss our kids grow up; it’s just like you say: “I looked away but a moment.”
I wish I could turn time back and not look away. Thank you for this reminder today!

Ann E. Burg

Patricia, your poem gave me goosebumps. The toddler in my poem is also grown, but I remember she played soccer in a tutu, and was distracted by the dandelions in the field. Unraveling time. Leapfrogging Little league…what lovely phrases! Thanks for this beautiful poem.

Denise Krebs

Patricia, what a beautiful poem that tells so much about your little kindergartener who suddenly became a father. The use of the two generations of soccer players is a stunning way to show the quickness. “Don’t look away.” So much truth.

Dave Wooley

Patricia,

You really capture the essence of how time works.Your last line particulary hits home and is sage advice. That image of unraveling time is so apt!

anita ferreri

Patricia, this is SO true. Your line about “time leapfrogging” is a wonderful image that says it all.

Barb Edler

Patricia, oh, yes, I do feel every bit of your poem’s warning. Now as an empty nester, how I wish I could have those lovely years back to witness my children as they grew. I love how you formatted this poem and the way each line flows with a crystal-clear image. Powerful poem.

C.O.

The passing of time in this poem is a beautiful story with tender memories. I loved picturing your children grown and evolve. Thank you for sharing this image and emotion

Margaret Simon

Your poem reminds me of the “Cats in the Cradle”, how time flies. I love “leapfrogging Little League” not only for the alliteration, but also for the meaning.

Kim Johnson

Patricia, your poem is so real and so now in the moment with the time passing far too quickly to savor as much as we’d like. We look away for one quick moment and they grow up too fast. Love the rocket and soccer ball…..the ground beneath and the sky above. The vastness of time and universe.

Ann E. Burg

I love this prompt Sarah! and your destore-ying made me smile. I envy your season’s weight shed ~ and have decided to keep what she can carry, she will claim…as a personal mantra. Wishing you much joy in your travels!

The past three prompts have instantly pulled a single moment from my mind’s overstuffed memory closet…I struggled through infertility for seven long years and present here

A Moment Missed but Not Missed

Reaching to pick up the toddler
tired of walking along the shore,
I missed the shooting star.
My friend called me on it,
disapprovingly.
I didn’t care. I had waited so long
for the miracle in my arms.

PATRICIA J FRANZ

Yes! You chose the better of two moments! I love the slant rhymes and “ah” sounds of your lines. It flows beautifully.

Leilya Pitre

Ann, “the miracle in your arms” is so much more important. I am glad when this kind of “missing” happens. The shooting star may happen again, but kids grow up so fast. Patricia above you just wrote about it in her poem too. Thank you! I love reading your poems.

Denise Krebs

Oh, Ann, what a great memory. That you chose the better moment. “the miracle in my arms” is beautiful and true.

anita ferreri

Ann, your last line, the “miracle in my arms,” speaks volumes about the relative importance of what we see versus what we do. Lovely

Barb Edler

Oh, Ann, I love your poem. The final part is so beautifully delivered. I love how you open this with a clear action and show what really matters the most. Gorgeous poem.

C.O.

I have no words other than how sweet this is. Thank you for sharing, I really enjoy reading your work.

Margaret Simon

You captured this miracle moment when your choice was the right one.

Kim Johnson

Ah, yes! The miracle of a child. Nothing can compare – – not even a shooting star.

Sharon Roy

So beautiful and heartfelt, Ann,

I had waited so long

for the miracle in my arms.

Stefani B

Sarah, thank you for sharing this form and pulling us into your world of transition–love the walking toward adventure!

evolution of today’s tweens and teens
involves curved neck spines from screens
as older addicts catch up on time missed 
forgetting to parent and miss adolescence
eye-contact is no longer expected
hand shaking is sent via text, snapped
digital posterity is being history-ed

PATRICIA J FRANZ

Spot on message and you wove it all in flawlessly with the mix of end- and slanted rhymes. Well done!

Leilya Pitre

Stefani, you capture “today’s tweens and teens” so well! I also like that you mention “older addicts,” as I feel I am catching up with those kids on a screen time. it concerns me quite a bit that a lot of kids today send hand shakes via text and don’t know how to talk to each other in person. I like how you used “history-ed.” Thank you for your words today!

Denise Krebs

Stefani, wow. You have captured some sad truths. I wonder what other unknown symptoms will evolve from this era besides things like “curved neck spines.”

Dave Wooley

Stefani,

Wow, this hits home! So much of the way we experience life and the way that we people seems to be in the process of being history-ed. Great poem!

anita ferreri

Stefani, your message is SPOT ON! The image you capture of today’s teens with their “Curved necks spines” is absolutely scary and I worry about the long term physical as well as the psychological damage we are doing,

Barb Edler

Stefani, your poem is truly indicative of our current reality. My heart aches from the line “forgetting to parent and miss adolescence”. Isn’t it lovely when you can experience a true eye to eye contact with someone! Your “history-ed” word is provocative!

C.O.

“Older addicts” is SO GOOD and so true with what i see in elementary parents “making up for lost time”- that line is gold. Nailed it. Thanks for sharing these truths.

Margaret Simon

The digital age concerns me so much as I see more and more anxiety in the teens and tweens. Great final line “digital posterity is being history-ed.”

Kim Johnson

Stefani, there are such huge tradeoffs in the digital age. The silver linings seem few and far between when it comes to the human connections, and I love that you remind us of this. As an introvert, I rather like it – but wow, the social costs compared to our own generation. I will say this, though: I stay in touch more with others across the globe with the screen than I would without it. What a powerful poem!

Margaret Simon

Sarah, I admire your commitment to less stuff. As I clean out my classroom preparing to leave for good, I have to make those hard choices of what to keep and what to leave behind. It’s not an easy task for me. Thanks for the prompt and keeping me writing when I really want to make excuses that I don’t have time. I often tell my students if you don’t know what to write about, write about that.

I Almost Missed the Call

Morning wren calls my inner critic’s bluff
repeating wake up, wake up, wake up.
I almost missed its call
holding me accountable for my role.
Open the blank page, it is enough.
Ink seven lines of poetic stuff.
Bloom from an imperfect soul.

Stefani B

Margaret, I re-read your sixth line many times, imagining your hand-writing of ink moved to a digital space of typed words–wondering if that was the process or if “ink” is simply a a modern use of “type.” And ultimately wondering how the art of inking is becoming an lost art. Thank you for sharing.

PATRICIA J FRANZ

I love that your writing is a call to not let the universe pass without notice. However imperfect the soul, ink blooms!

Leilya Pitre

Margaret, I can’t imagine you missing the call. You are so good with words! I like the brevity of the final three lines – they sound as instructions to self. Love “Bloom from an imperfect soul.” Thank you!

Denise Krebs

Margaret, I The “inner critic” to “bloom[ing] from an imperfect soul” is just lovely! I like the wren’s holding you accountable to create and bloom.

Dave Wooley

Margaret,

I put sooo much stuff from my classroom in the trash when I left. I don’t really miss it–the memories and the work are still with me and there’s more stuff to collect in the days ahead.

I love the metaphor of your poem as a bloom from your soul and the morning wake up call compelling you to the page!

anita ferreri

Margaret, I really am not sure HOW you made the time to respond to the call to write, but you did! Perhaps it was the FOMO, a wee bit, but more likely it was your clear ownership of the role of capturing the uniqueness of each and every moment. As always, you get it done.

Barb Edler

Margaret, your poem cleverly reveals an easy to relate to moment we can all understand. Your final line is particularly human, and I like the wren’s call in the second line. I often hear “teacher, teacher, teacher” which I believe is a cardinal’s tweet. Lovely poem that resonated for me.

C.O.

“Open the blank page, it is enough” is so moving to me. I will think about this for a while tonight. Xoxo, another imperfect soul. Beautiful

Kim Johnson

I love that birdsong called you to write – – the morning wren, the loudest bird of all in what’s left of my woods. The bloom from an imperfect soul is a beautiful way to end the poem, reminding us that what we bring will never be perfect, but there is uniqueness and style in the imperfectly perfect!

Sharon Roy

Margaret,

Glad you heeded the wren’s call because this is a lovely poem. Your last lines are a beautiful gift:

Open the blank page, it is enough.

Ink seven lines of poetic stuff.

Bloom from an imperfect soul.

Congratulations on your retirement!

I’m also retiring this year and trying not to bring home things I have no room for. We should follow Sarah’s example–one suitcase! Impressive!

Scott M

Margaret, you had me at “Ink seven lines of poetic stuff”! (Actually, you had me much earlier; I love the advice you give your students about what to do if/when they are “blocked.”) But the “poetic stuff” line got me, lol. I feel that sometimes, too, looking at a draft, I’ll go, yeah, I guess, it feels “poetic” enough, lol.

Kim Johnson

Sarah, thank you for this gift of space for poetry, and the prompts and poems you bring. There’s not a more nurturing place for a writer to grow than here. The Demi Sonnet is so fun to write! Your poem brings excitement for your upcoming sabbatical of adventure and travel. I like the claim and carry – – the feeling of light minimalism in taking in the world and its experiences, not the weight of encumbrances. I can’t wait to follow you on your journey when you share the places you visit. I chose a Moment I Almost Missed from the prompts and it took me back to a late night front porch phone call when I caught a night blooming flower in action.

Call Interference

front porch phone call late at night
unfurling starburst: opening show
caught my eye in the moon’s spotlight
petal by petal, revealing its brilliance
conversation ~ a bloom interference
most never see this nocturnal sight:
Queen of the Night crowning waterlily-bright!

Margaret Simon

”a bloom interference” is a happy happenstance. Love the “Queen of the Night crowning waterlily-bright.”

Stefani B

Kim,
I used a search to experience a secondary image of a queen of the night, so beautiful. The concept of “interference” is an endless digital theme in our lives, often not even knowing what we are missing–ugh! Thank you for sharing.

PATRICIA J FRANZ

How fun to be called away from the mundane to an extraordinary sight! Love your sonnet end- and slant rhymes, too (brilliance/interference –wow!)

Leilya Pitre

Kim, what a beautiful demi-sonnet. I, too, had to look up Queen of the Night flower. It is gorgeous, and I can imagine it opening at night. I wouldn’t mind this kind of “bloom interference” at all. Your rhyming works so well in this poem.

Denise Krebs

Oh, Kim, what a joy to not miss this night bloomer. I like how the phone call becomes a “conversation ~ a bloom interference” with the flower instead. Beautiful!

Dave Wooley

Kim,

The image of the unfurling starburst is a great descriptor! I love the idea of a late night phone call that sends you out on the porch where you catch sight of the bloom!

anita ferreri

Kim, your poem takes me from the ordinary phone call on the porch as the day comes to a quiet close all the way to the extraordinary magic of a rare, magical experience that awakes the heart and the soul. Hope this was for real!

Barb Edler

Wow, Kim, your poem’s focus is lovely. I adore your word choice throughout this poem. I especially loved “unfurling starburst” and “waterlily-bright”. Beautiful poem, and so well crafted!

C.O.

I love the “opening show” as multi-meaning here. This is lovely and a beautiful way to capture this memory in writing

Sharon Roy

Kim,

Oh wow!

bloom interference

Love it. Wondering if you’ve read Margaret Renkl’s The Comfort of Crows. I’m listening to the audiobook which she narrates. There’s an easy about nature for every week of the year. Yesterday I listened to one about the author driving an hour to her brother’s house in hopes of seeing a night blooming plant based on her brother’s prediction that it would bloom that night. He keeps a gardening journal and tracks when things bloom year to year. It sounded like quite a special moment. I’m so happy for you that you were able to witness

bloom interference

most never see this nocturnal sight:

Queen of the Night crowning waterlily-bright!