This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We gather every month and daily in April — no sign-ups, no fees, no commitments. Come and go as you please. All that we ask is that if you write, you respond to others to mirror to them your readerly experiences — beautiful lines, phrases that resonate, ideas stirred. Enjoy. (Learn more here.)
Our Host
Tammi is a District Gifted Intervention Specialist, middle school Power of the Pen writing coach, and all-around book nerd who’s been sharing her love of reading, writing, and poetry with students for 18 years. When she’s not lost in a stack of young adult books, you’ll find her rocking out to music with her family, hiking through the woods, marveling at the magic of her son’s mushroom farm, or belting out show tunes with her daughters at the latest musical. Based in Cleveland, Ohio, Tammi has published poetry and short stories in Ethical ELA’s teacher resource books, Words That Mend, 90 Ways of Community, and Just YA. She is also the author of the YA verse novel Perchance to Dream.
Inspiration
In June of 2021 I embarked on a poetry writing adventure with a Poetry Marathon contest. Poets had the option of writing poetry for twelve or twenty four hours with a prompt dropping hourly. I chose the twelve hour marathon, and by the end of the day had written twelve new poems. The prompt below is borrowed from that Marathon. I was particularly inspired by this prompt because my daughter and I have always enjoyed sharing our favorite lines of literature. This poetry prompt was a fun way to incorporate favorite lines.
Process
Grab a book from your shelf. Read the last line in it. Use that line as the first or last line of your poem. If you don’t have any books near you, load this page and scan down till you find the right one.
Targeted Teaching Ideas & Variations:
- Encourage students to select a line from their favorite book that conveys important themes or pivotal moments in the text.
- Have students select any powerful lines from novels explored during the year.
- Use Note and Notice Signpost Strategy to guide students in selecting memory moments, Ah Ha moments, Again and Again moments, etc.
- Use this poetry prompt as a book report option for independent reading.
Tammi’s Poem
“I cross the street without an arm to hold me back” — They Both Die At the End
I cross the street without an arm to hold me back
because walking in fear is walking in darkness.
No one should ever hold you back.
Move with purpose, find the light within.
Believe you are strong enough to be yourself,
not what others believe you should be.
Take the next step and the next and the next
because holding still and pretending is death.
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.
“Dusty snow blowing
Across the trail as we walk
Covering our prints.”
–Joseph Bruchac
New Years Day, 2025:
I joined a group of meandering
walkers on a hike through Bowman
Lake State Park.
The day cold and crisp
as my anger
that snapped like a flag.
Boots sank in muddy paths,
And we listened for birdsong,
which was not salve
to quell my heart’s misgivings,
the chemical anger that flowed
through my blood, or my certainty
That I – we – had crossed a rubicon.
I like this prompt! I will try to use it with my students for sure. I thought about 1984 since I’m feeling that book so much lately with recent events but I’m not feeling up to that at this moment, so instead, for now, I decided to use the best book I read over holiday break for this.
“…I lost about a year of my life and much of the comfort and security I had not valued until it was gone…” – Kindred by Octavia E. Butler
I lost about a year of my life
maybe much more
worrying about the past
fretting over the future
ignoring the present
until it was gone
hourglass sand slipping through my one year older fingers
Luke, there is so much rich self-awareness in your poems. I love this. Very effective use of the ending lines with past, future and present. That last long line is effective too, like you are reaching into the future to capture the slipping sands.
I missed this prompt yesterday, Tammi, and what a great prompt it is. I sure wish I was still in the classroom so that I can use this to elicit great work from my students.
I haven’t started reading this book, but it’s on the footstool, so I grabbed it and turned to the end.
“Smile!” she says, and even if those smiles come out forced, even if the picture itself will only be a poor facsimile of this instant, she knows she must do what she can to hold on to it, this narrow second of perfection.
~Homeschooled by Stefan Merrill Block
Narrow Second of Perfection
Within the wide swaths of ordinary
exist narrow seconds of perfection.
I usually grab the phone
a few moments after the sweet spot
to capture the beauty for eternity.
How lucky are we to get
a few of these precious snapshots
worth preserving
even a few times a month, a year.
These narrow seconds of perfection
are to be cherished
and gazed upon for decades
and hopefully
generations.
~Susan Ahlbrand
17 January 2026
Susan, what a great interpretation of those narrow seconds of perfection in our lives. You are absolutely right. I love the photos that bring back stories of love and joy. Usually I get my phone out after the sweet thing was said by my grandson, or the smile has faded, but I like to think of those narrow seconds of perfection as living in my memory when I don’t capture the photo.
I am a librarian at an alternative school tasked with teaching a creative writing class (that’s why I’m here!). Writing scares me, but I always attempt what I ask my students to do, and I think this prompt might be one they’ll enjoy. It will at least get them grabbing books off the shelf! This title was given to me by a gentleman who built some shelves for the library. It’s on my TBR.
“She was old and weather-weary, and she had learned to let the world come round to her.” – last line of West with the Night by Beryl Markham
She was old and weather-weary,
and she had learned to let the world
come round to her.
No longer allowing fear
to fill her heart, she
stopped performing
for the measuring sticks
of strangers.
She no longer argued with the seasons,
and let winter settle around her,
comforted in
the constancy of daffodils.
Draped in well-worn quilts,
she stood still
in steady faith
that she was enough.
Oh, Kelly, I hope this is autobiographical, written in third person. That would make me love it even more than I already do. Such a powerful personality you write about, who seems to have found comfort in her own skin. Absolute beauty!
Michelle Obama’s book THE LIGHT WE CARRY closes with lines that begin my poem.
It’s yes, always
When we’re asked to do our best
That’s what we ask studentsto do.
Don’t you think we should, too?
Weekends come and we sit back
And wonder about the stack
Of work we still have to do.
After all grades next week are due.
What if we’d had them write a poem
Instead of another essay?
If all we needed to know and have them show
If they learned what we had taught that day.
It’s yes, always yes.
Time to confess
Assigning poems
Will address what we have to teach
Yes, poetry can help us reach
More and more of them will learn.
And fewer assignments they will spurn.
It’s yes, always, yes,
Unless it’s an essay about the beach.
Anna, your poem and Michelle’s last line make me think of our friend Kwame’s Ted Talk- the power of yes! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkTn3l2FnIY
Anna,
I agree! So much learning and connection can happen in a classroom through poetry. Yes, to poetry!
I was given some books by one of my favorite British comedians, Bob Mortimer. I haven’t read The Hotel Avocado yet, but the last line is “Must fly.” That made me think of the things I must do.
Bucket List
By Mo Daley 1/17/26
Must fly
Must grasp
Must shimmer
Must commune
Must sizzle
Must explore
Must realize
Must dismantle
Must stretch
Must swoon
Must peek
Must mystify
Must explore
Mo — This is a great must do list! I especially like “must shimmer” and “must sizzle”. I think that is something all need to aspire too!
That’s pretty fantastic to read the last line of the book and then make your own meaning (which I’d love a follow up poem after your read the book). And I do believe you can check off all these items on your bucket list as you are so moved. Let’s swoon. Yes. And let’s dismantle. Indeed.
I pulled the book from the top of my TBR stack. I have no idea what the novel is about, but the last line was inspiring. It’s the last line of this poem.
Just a Moment
after A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles
The tea in her cup
had grown cold.
She took a sip but
left a respectable puddle
in the bottom of the flowery cup.
She placed it delicately on the table.
With a slight tremble, she spread
a receipt on the table and wrote
a reminder for later, something
she might like to say.
She looked across the room and
watched a young couple,
finished with their meal, get up
from their table and leave.
The waiter tried to catch her eye
but she glanced away again.
She recalled a day in the park
in a European city and smiled
a smile that turned to a grimace.
She had a book, but it would stay in her bag.
She looked out the large windows at a damp sunset.
And there in the corner
at a table for two,
her hair tinged with gray,
the willowy woman waited.
Jeff,
I really enjoyed the way your narrative poem unfolds and builds intrique. The poem flows really well into the final lines, “her hair tinged with gray, the willowy woman waited” and leaves me wanting to know who she is waiting for.
What a journey, Jeff! I loved the respectable puddle at the bottom of the flowery cup. And your last line is lovely!
What great first lines here that could go in so many ways, but certainly I want to know why. And I was lingering a while at “damp sunset” filling in my own connotation and connection. And like to think she looked beautiful in that reflection gray and with w alliteration. Nice.
Jeff, your creativity shows how working backwards can inspire. Sometimes if we know where we’re going, we just dowhat we need to reach that destination. Your crisp imagery pulled us along with you!
Tammi,
Thank you for hosting and for this inspiring prompt. Love the power inherent in your poem. Indeed, “no one should ever hold you back.”
I do have an inspiration line in my poem, but it’s not the first or last line, and it’s from a poem, not prose. It’s a line from Dulce et Decorum est by Wilfred Owen.
Si modo paruissent—
a factory
south of town belches
toxins.
a baby sucks
contaminants into her lungs.
nursing mothers hide
their breasts
under fog that
blinds a man.
Gas! GAS! Quick!
the poet warned—
another canister lands:
orange? green? gray?
vaporized
sewage seeps into skin,
coating homes as children
cry in fitful sleep.
fatigue-clad goons
drag a woman from her car and
kidnap Ocala Sioux from their homeland,
reenacting colonial mythology,
disappearing the rainbow.
Si modo paruissent—
this century’s lie:
if only they had complied
Glenda Funk
January 17, 2026
Glenda –These images are so visceral “sewage seeps into skin,
coating homes as children cry in fitful sleep” and this last line really strikes a cord “if only they had complied”. All the victim blaming is so disturbing. What has transpired in our nation in the first few weeks of 2026, is mind boggling. I hope we can find our humanity.
Glenda, this is something. Really. And exhale from a long deep breath only a poet can conjure from the state of things. I am pondering “disappearing the rainbow”, sitting with the implications.
Glenda, your poems always give us so much to think about. My favorite line is, “the poet warned—.” That is our responsibility.
Tammi, You got me with that last line. What a powerful poem! I am at a writing retreat in Georgia. I opened my Cloud Library app to find an Arthur Sze poem. I borrowed the last line of two poems to bookend my poem. Thanks for this prompt.
Cloud Lines
What line of sight leads
to revelation?
The setting sun rays illuminate
cloud lines softening to pink glaze.
A robin crosses the trail,
feathers fluffed, orange belly blooms.
We hike down the hill without considering
the walk back up.
You tenderly gasp at the deer crossing.
I focus, in the near distance, on the music
of pine cones.
Margaret Simon, draft
after Arthur Sze
Margaret — I enjoyed following you on your hike with the beautiful sensory images “clouds lines softening to pink glaze and orange belly blooms and especially love the last line “I focus, in the near distance, on the music/of pine cones.”
Ohhh, what a gorgeous gift to nature! I adore all the sensory details evoked here.
☀️
Margaret. I feel place so deeply here. Transported by “the music of pine cones.” Wow.
Tammi, yay! I completely forgot it was poetry time! Happy New Year, everyone! I absolutely love this prompt and your poem. I chose my line from the book, The World is Waiting for You, by Edwina Findlay Dickerson. The last line is also the strike line for my Golden Shovel about retiring at the end of this school year.
The Last Act
Teaching has been The
opportunity to share the stage
with my passion, and now it is
the debut of my final set.
Planning and expecting The
best for my scholars before the curtain
closes on our last year, and it is
their time to soar with the sun’s rising.
When friends ask what will I do Now
I tell them it’s not over, I will see what is
sweet in a slower pace, setting your
own schedule, moving with, not against, time
saying yes to new paths and adventures to
seek joy, to dance, to shine.
©Stacey L. Joy, 1/17/26
Oh! Retirement! I’ve still got a few years, but I dream of it anyway. As you say, “setting your/ own schedule, moving with, not against, time/ saying yes to new paths and adventures to/ seek joy, to dance, to shine.” I might just need to keep those words with me as I move in that direction. Thank you for this joyful reflection.
Hang in there Amanda! Time flew by for me because during the 2022-23 school year, I felt like it was neverending. And here I am. 😆
Congratulations on your upcoming retirement, Stacey! Are you counting down the days? Love your last stanza, especially this line — “I will see what is sweet in a slower pace.” This sounds so blissful and holds promise of good things to come!
Thanks, Tammi but it’s soooo bittersweet! I am usually the countdown lady at work, but I’m not sharing as many countdowns as usual. I can’t imagine NOT being in my classroom but I know I would rather go while I’m well and happy as opposed to going when I’m bitter and tired. 😂
Stacey, I can only imagine the range of emotions this final act brings. Giving it your best and making it extra because it’s the last was not something I had considered when thinking of retirement (somehow fatigue always leads that thinking). I love that you are embracing this final year and love it for your kiddos as well.
Stacey,
I hope you have a wonderful final act to a stellar career just as I did. You have almost finished the race, and this poem is a wonderful tribute to the sharing and learning you have done w/ students these 40 years. Bravo!
Stacey. What a gorgeous poem in the “debut of my final set.” Yes, it is music, a symphony, a crafted masterpiece that will live on in new ways you choose.
Ditto!, what other have said. Those of us who have retired will welcome you to the busy life of doing more nothing than one can imagine! The major new feature is having the option to say, “No, but thanks for asking!” Enjoy your closing scene knowing the drapes soon will open again!
And I’ll be free.
(last line of How to Dodge a Cannonball by Dennard Dayle)
And I’ll be free.
Free, able to act or do as I wish
Free, not under the control or in the power of another
Free, no longer confined or imprisoned
Free, without cost – beyond purchase
Free
Be, as in occur
Be, as in take place
Be, as in exist
Be free
I’ll, as in request or facts or habit or even testament
I’ll, as in expectation or wish
I’ll, as in future,
as in inevitable
I’ll be free
Break it down: I will
as in I will
as in I will
I, myself
I, a man
I, me, a Black man
I will be free
And, together with, as well as, jointly
And, as in others, too, will be free
And, as in, this, too, shall come to pass
As in, our freedom is inevitable
And I’ll be free.
_______________________________________________________
We’re nearly at the end of our first semester here, and I’ve been trying to help grade 9 students make connections between the texts we’ve studied; this prompt would have been great to nudge some along – ah, well, there’s always next semester. I turned to the book I’m currently reading, the often laugh-out-loud-funny Civil War satire How to Dodge a Cannonball by Dennard Dayle. I haven’t finished it yet (no spoilers!) but I peeked at the last line anyway; I could immediately hear the character’s voice and, from my place in the middle of the novel, I tried it to imagine what this character was saying at the end of the book. I hope I did him justice.
Amanda — I like the way your character breaks down his understanding of freedom and renames “I, myself/ I am man” and repeats his undertanding of that dream. If feels very authentic because freedom probably felt uncertain and tenuous.
Amanda,
Reading your poem I felt like I was at church hearing a spiritual message: “Free at last. Thank God we’re free at last.” Love the repetition and the inspiration line. Love the free verse format that replicates the ideas in your poem. I hope you’ll share this w/ students.
Amanda, I loved not only seeing the analysis at work, the repeated “break[ing] it down,” but also the building up of your last lines to “And I’ll be free,” which mirrors your title and Dayle’s last line. Thanks for this!
“The strongest man in the world is he who stands alone.”
(last line in the play The Enemy of the People)
The strongest man in the world is he who stands alone.
Perhaps.
But what does strong mean?
Are the strong the ones willing to chart a path different than their compatriots?
The ones who maintain a belief when all others charge heresy?
Singing solo does require strength.
Yet . . .
It also takes strength to reconsider your stand.
To admit you are wrong.
To ask for help and not be alone.
As with most blanket statements
this one is not always true.
But sometimes it is.
Kim, wow! That is deep, and I love that you used the line of a play. I’m hearing this sung to the tune of Do You Hear the People Sing? and it’s giving me chills of truth and realization.
Kim — That last line “But sometimes it is” got me thinking. I agree that sometimes there is a bit of truth in things we assume are “blanket statements.” You present a good reminder to consider all perspectives.
Kim,
You picked one of my favorite plays as inspiration. It is so relevant in this time. I’m a huge fan of posing questions in poems. I like how they’re in conversation w/ the reader.
Kim, I love Ibsen’s play, and your gentle (“Perhaps”) push back to Dr. Stockmann’s line is perfect! Thank you for crafting and sharing this!
Last Words
I must go in,
for the fog is rising.
Goodnight, my kitten.
Valerie.
You are wonderful.
A certain butterfly is
already on the wing.
Tomorrow, at sunrise,
I shall no longer be here.
This dying is boring.
____________________________________________________
Tammi, thank you for this prompt and for your mentor poem! I love the truth in the last lines: “Take the next step and the next and the next / because holding still and pretending is death.” For my offering, I have a cento of sorts composed of the reported final words of the following poets/authors – listed in order of chosen lines – Emily Dickinson, Ernest Hemingway, T.S. Eliot, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Vladimir Nabokov, Nostradamus, and Richard Feynman.
How clever to combine lines from different writers!
What a fun riff on the prompt. And now, of course, I want to go read many last lines. How terribly clever and (sorry, Richard Feynman) your poem is not boring at all.
Scott — I love, love, love this poet mash up! I enjoy the way you combine The inevitability of death “I must go in,” with lightness of “You are wonderful/A certain butterfly is/already on the wing and a bit of humor “This dying is boring”
Tammy, I woke up early this morning and read your poem and I’ve been thinking about the line “walking in fear is walking in darkness” all morning. I thought of it while swimming in my bathing suit in 52 degree ocean in mid-January! And there was so much light for a January morning, even in the green-gray sea. Thank you for this prompt.
My poem is a bunch of rambling right now but it will be fun to edit and work with. My first line is from the last line of Gary D. Schmidt’s Trouble.
The stars burst upward, back into the sky
Clouds swirl
Like bonfire smoke
Shifting in the breeze
How high are the birds that fly into them?
What does the moisture do to their wings?
I wish I could fly
Drift like smoke
After Peter died, I dreamed
I rode a tram into the clouds
Beyond them even
To the ceiling of the sky
And stepped out upon it
The sea, so far
Below
I dared not look over the edge
Of our boat in the storm
For fear of falling
When night drew its black blanket
Hiding clouds and star and moon
The stars of the sea (or bioluminescence)
Burned in their watery glow
Burst upward
Back into the sky.
First, I love Schmidt’s Trouble.
Honestly, I just like how your poem makes me feel. I know what I will be thinking about on the next starry night–a tram ride!
I love the light and dark imagery at play and the way the first and last line work together
I notice the interplay here between science and emotion. Curiosity about how the world works butts up against wishes and dreams, and the dream itself contains a scientific explanation for its imagery. What an interesting tension!
Emily — There are so many beautiful images in your poem. You capture the night sky so well. I agree with Kim — your poem gives me all the feels with “I wish I could fly/Drift like smoke” and “I dared not look over the edge”. I feel like I’m sitting and experiening your night sky.
I have not read this book, but it jumped out at me and so I made a golden shovel poem.
First Kiss
from Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood
Pillow held tight, a shield, all
which protects me from that
dizzying feeling when control was
Lost and left
me one way forward. I was
going to have to drop the shield. Let love
slip between the cracks and
find me vulnerable to wonder.
Erica, I liked reading this first without the title and then again with yo see how the meaning shifted for me. In both ways, the line “drop the shield” got me each time and ending with “vulnerable to wonder” is a lovely turn toward and not away from wonder.
Erica, these words stole my heart:
“Let love slip between the cracks” – just what I needed today.
The line you chose for the Golden Shovel works so well with your message. Thank you!
This is a favorite of mine, the Ya Yas. Funny – – I had not thought of it in a long time until two days ago, when we were putting our reading list for the year together for our book club. I considered this one, as beautiful and moving as it is. Your last line and what you have done with the golden shovel is creative and thought provoking. It’s like your choice of quote and form – – you went in a great direction with this prompt.
Erica –Your poem does such a wonderful job of conveying that feeling of innocence and young love. The pillow as a shield that is dropped to allow for love and vulnerability is beautiful and authentic. I feel it really works well with your chosen line.
The image of the pillow as shield really made the title pop – oh yes, we have to drop the shield! You’ve really used the golden shovel line well, evoking a moment that matches the original, and I love the last sentence (as others have mentioned) – gorgeous.
My Tammi ~ thanks for the prompt! I especially like your admonition to find the light within…times are so dark…I also appreciate the reminder that holding still and pretending is death…so beautiully put that I’ve decided to hold onto these lines…
My own poem is from the first line of The Hours by Michael Cunningham. Through the years I have gathered more books than I’ll ever read and once I read the first line (which I must have already done in a used book store), I wanted to read the whole thing so I didn’t want to go to the last line.
She hurries from the house wearing a coat too heavy for the weather.
A green coat with fur-lined hood
though the last of the snow has melted—
even the mounds which remained purposely oblivious
to the sun, stubbornly resolving to leave on their own terms—
even the mounds are gone, finally washed away
by the first soft rains of spring—
like the woman in the green coat,
the only coat she has with pockets deep enough
for all she needs to hold, all she needs to carry close
before she’s whisked away.
Ann, I LOVE the images in your poem. The comparison of the mounds of snow to the woman “with pockets deep enough for all she needs to hold…” I feel sad for the woman, but then also, I want to be her, to hold only what I need. Really beautiful, Ann.
Ann, I like reading this poem for the coat as entirely figurative, considering the ways we carry and hold onto things because we have the space or because of utility. Lots to ponder here especially because I have one green coat for my year of travel, and I am sick of it. Ha.
Intriguing–I really want to know more about this woman. Thank you,
Ann — I absolutely love the way your poem unfolds, moving from the bleak images of snow being washed away by spring to a sense of hope for new beginnings and the joy of holding what we cherish close. I feel a warning in the last lines “for all she needs to hold, all she needs to carry close/before she’s whisked away” as a reminder to cherish what we have before it is gone—or before we are.
Ann, the image of the green coat when we are in the midst of a polar vortex and cold, cold, cold makes me yearn for the spring you describe – soft rains, snow mounds faded. As someone always fascinated by furniture with lots of drawers, her coat to hold all the things holds equal fascination.
Tammi, thank you for hosting today, and so sorry, everyone, for the late start. Your poem is some powerful advice. My favorite line is “because walking in fear is walking in darkness.” Amen to that.
I’m reading Bewilderment by Richard Powers, and I took part of his beautiful and poetic last line and wrote about my area.
Today is the start of the Stafford Challenge, where we write a poem a day for a year, starting on William Stafford’s birthday. Here’s the link if anyone wants to join in. https://staffordchallenge.com/join-the-challenge Your prompt is going to be a great one for when I don’t know what to write! I always have books laying around.
Reminder
and we, too, were good, as good as*
the pressing wind
and the blanketing sun
and the green carpet from the autumn rains
and the lantern blossoms of the Joshua tree
and the well-worn paths of the Chemehuevi
and the peace in being in this place
______________________
*last line in Bewilderment by Richard Powers: “And we, too, were good, as good as the burn of the sun and the rain’s sting and the smell of living soil, the all-over song of endless solutions signing the air of a changing world that by every calculation ought never to have been.”
Denise, I like the way to turned the line into its own poem. As a teacher of primarily reluctant readers and writers, my first through is how this model would be a powerful small group of whole class write! I cannot wait to model this!
Denise, I’m trying to land in one of those similes as my favorite, and I cannot! Each one takes me to a different desire (I had never heard of the Chemehuevi before). My heart places me on the green from the rains but my wanderlust and need to feel connected takes me along those worn paths. All of these are peaceful – as is this place! (I have signed up for Stafford – we shall see where that path leads!).
Hi, Denise! I signed up for the Stafford Challenge last night. What I was thinking about? I love how you structured your poem as brief sketches rich with images. The ending lines are my favorites:
“and the lantern blossoms of the Joshua tree
and the well-worn paths of the Chemehuevi
and the peace in being in this place”
Denise, I am swimming in these lines, yours and Powers’, considering the comparisons and how our place in the word surfaces images anchored there, maybe only there for the see-er for the witness to this specific collection of scenes. What a gift it is for the reader to see it, too, in a poem.
Denise — I feel the comfort and peace exuding through your language. I can picture those lantern blossoms. Such beautiful images!
I just signed up for the Stafford Challenge this morning!
Denise, LOVE the way you brought in setting and imagery to the poem with an inspired line. Someday I want to see a Joshua tree in person. I love the peace of place, and yours sounds like one of deep inner contentment. A blessed place to be.
Bewilderment is beautifully written, isn’t it? The images in your poem carried me along – I honestly can’t choose a favourite (I had to look up Chemehuevi) – both with the simple evocative descriptions and the scope of the list. Thank you.
Tammi, thank you for your powerful poem that has so many hues this MLK weekend when so many are concerned with holding back and yet trying to push forward with what we value and need…..You remind us that to not go forward and push is to face the moment of our deaths…..I just finished re-reading the Thirteen Clocks by James Thurber. The last line in the book is, “The last spy of the Duke of Coffin Circle, alone and lonely, in the gloomy room, thought he heard, from somewhere far away, the sound of someone laughing.” I took some liberty in word sequence while embracing the message on this very snowy afternoon.
Alone, but not really lonely,
Thoughts of friends, children,
Writing their own stories,
I settled into the couch with a
Mug of Earl Gray, Chopin on
Spotify, Homeschooled on Kindle.
The glow of an early morning swim
Mingled with the silent snow falling.
I thought I heard the sound of
Someone, from long ago,
Laughing as she worried about
Embracing the moment, and the
Inevitable, change.
Anita, wow, I love the picture you create of your day. It sounds delightful, and then the throw back to a younger you. The whole poem just makes me smile and makes me happy for you. Here’s to a great prompt ant the Anita alchemy that gave birth to this beauty.
Anita, what a powerful way to blend the last line into your own poem. The words become so much a part of the narrator’s day. I wonder about the laughter, or rather its tone, since she is worried about the present and anticipating the change. We can interpret that laughter in so many ways! It brings to mind those who have already traveled our roads and the cautions or opportunities they might offer us.
Oh, Anita, this is so heartfelt. I love the visual details here and that feeling of a relaxing, enjoyable time with Earl Gray, classical music, and a book–such a cozy image! You bring that glimpse of your younger self so naturally weaving the line from the novel. Beautiful!
Anita –You totally pulled me into this moment with your “Mug of Earl Gray, Chopin …Mingled with the silent snow falling.” The sound of laughter feels both nostalgic and haunting. Love the message of embracing change.
Anita, you draw the reader in with all the things we know and love – quiet, couch, tea, music, Kindle reading, water and light, and memory – – that comes right in the midst of it all.
Anita,
This poem really honors memories that keep us company and books that do that, too. I read first w/out having read your intro. Thus, I had two unique reading experiences. The first was haunting and the second comforting and cathartic.
This is from Stephen King’s Holly. Instead of a line, I wrote kind of a review or analysis in nonet form. It has spoilers. My friend gave me this book because the two main characters are professors and several supporting characters are poets. They go about their research in different ways. Ha.
HOLLY
They ate to outrun their own endings,
hoarding stolen years from other bodies,
afraid of forgetting themselves,
turning hunger into method,
people into means,
days into debt,
fear into
a small
cage.
Open.
One small
fear into
days into meaning,
people into voices,
turning hunger into language,
tending the self through making,
finding nourishment without consuming,
they wrote to live, not just survive.
Sarah, I love the nonet and reverse nonet – a mirror form as a visual of two. It’s clever and genius. And I’m loving, too, that I can build a TBR list today. Powerful Stephen King strikes again. And Insightful Sarah Donovan does too.
Sarah, one of the hallmarks of “selling” books to readers is the “book-talk” where you share just enough, sometimes hinting at spoilers, so that others will want to read the book. This is what you just did for me. I linked onto my Libby account to find the book where I am only on a waiting list of 2! Thank you. Powerful
Sarah, such a beautiful poem about a Stephen King novel. So impressive! It makes me want to read the novel. I love your last line; I think writing kept me going in 2025.
Ohhh, Sarah! I want to discuss those opening lines! There are sooo many ways to read them (and read into them). I keep going back to that first line. Again. And again. It’s haunting and foreboding. It’s cautionary and capitalistic. Wow!
Sarah, what attracts me is how skillfully you change the tone from the first to the second nonet. So from consumption and eating “to outrun themselves,” they find “nourishment without consuming.” I like the idea and purpose of writing to live because it is so much more than just surviving. Wise and thoughtful!
Sarah, I want to use YOUR last line! Writing helps teach me that we are not here just to survive. I got chills when I read, “fear into a small cage.” That, I suppose, is what writing isn’t. It’s being open to all the fears and the meaning, voices, language, and making of life. Thanks, Sarah, for sharing this today.
Sarah,
The nonet form is brilliant choice in juxtaposing these haunting actions and feelings. I especially love your last lines, “finding nourishment without consuming,
they wrote to live, not just survive.” Your spoilers have intriqued me.
Wow, I am sold! I would read this book ONLY because of your poem. Your nonet (both ways) works so well.
The ending is filled with what we all hope for:
Beautiful!
Sarah, having read (and really enjoyed) Holly, I loved your poem! “[F]ear into / a small / cage” brought back several scenes to me and “turning hunger into language, / tending the self through making” are such cool lines! (King’s discussions between Kingsbury and Barbara about writing and poetry were such fun to read.)
Thank you, Tammi! This line from your poem is an important reminder to me: “because walking in fear is walking in darkness”
This is a fun prompt. The book that was on my desk (I plan to read it next) is King of Neuroverse by Idris Goodman. The final line is: “And watch your head on the way out.” I have no idea what it means in the novel, but it reminded me of my “eventful” childhood:
“And Watch Your Head on the Way Out”
Mom would call as I ran for the door,
her voice following me down the stairs,
through coats, backpacks, morning noise.
It became her signature goodbye
after that one fifth-grade afternoon
when I came home wrapped in bandages,
my head larger than my schoolbag.
We stayed late that day: homework done,
freedom buzzing in our legs.
Three boys, three girls, and a plan
that felt important and urgent.
A dog lived by our school. Pregnant,
nameless until we named her Naida.
She needed a home. We needed a project.
The boys found an old truck bed.
It was heavy with rocks and bricks,
history we didn’t think to respect.
They cleaned from the inside.
We searched for something soft.
One brick disagreed with the plan
and launched itself into my future—
a sharp lesson in gravity,
and excellent aim.
After that, Mom never missed a chance.
Every goodbye came with a warning,
a love shaped like caution,
a smile tucked inside concern.
“And watch your head on the way out.”
Leilya, what a sweet but painful story in poem! I love the humor of always reminding you to watch your head. I love your heart for the dog, and your way with words to retell it and share a piece of you with all of us.
This poem made me laugh ~ what could possibly go wrong with fifth graders, a pregnant dog and an errant brick?
Wow, you created a masterpiece from that final line. This is such an ominous line: “history we didn’t think to respect.” Perfect foreshadowing that makes us read with purpose. I’m so glad this prompt inspired you to tell this story. Wow!
Leilya, your line and its story-poem are a lovely way to describe your mother’s sweet sentiment and hope for every adventure as you left home.
Leilya, I love how you take me directly to the moment that you didn’t watch your head closely enough. At first, I was worried for you, but of course, the tale of the dog quickly took over as I was fully captured by what happened to her? (Inquiring minds, and all). You survived what must have been a very unpleasant experience. And we are glad for it! I have a feeling that your reading of King of Neuroverse is going to be guided by how the ending connects to what is happening in each chapter. It’s rather daring to read a final line first!
I love that the last line of a book turned into this memoir poem. How you start and end with the same line helps reinforce your mother’s love. The especially appreciated the lines “a love shaped like caution, a smile tucked inside concern”. As a mother, I relate! (And the verbs shaped and tucked are perfect!)
Leilya,
I absolutely love the way your chosen last line integrated your verse memory. It was seamless and your poem has so much heart and authenticity. I can totally understand why your, “Mom never missed a chance” to utter hear warning. I enjoy the detail of the “smile tucked inside concern.”
Tammi,
Such a great prompt (can’t wait to share this with my 7th graders!). Your poem is an inspiration today, on a bright sun-filled January amidst so much gathering darkness. Last night, I took a photo of a line from the book I was reading, since it inspired me – The Unbreakable Crown by Carina Finn – “Let those who are destined to fail, tear each other down.” Who knew I’d use it so soon!
Let those who are destined to fail,
tear each other down.
I read those words on a sign
once,
while standing amidst the rising.
I heard those words
once,
shouted from a factory floor.
I saw those words
once,
slipping from the lips
of the good.
I watched those words
once,
catch and take hold,
knowing,
knowing,
knowing,
that the people will rise
above their differences
to build again.
Jennifer,
Your last lines ” Let those who are destined to fail, tear each other down” so relevant in our current climate. I appreciate the hope conveyed in the last lines of your poem —
“that the people will rise
above their differences
to build again.” I do hope we can build those bridges!
I am adding The Unbreakable Crown to my TBT list.
Jennifer, what a line you chose to write a poem! I agree with Tammi–it feels especially relevant today. I like all the ways you witness and recognize these words: read, heard, saw, watched. They help me envision the consistency of the message and help move toward the final message: “people will rise above their differences to build again.”
Oh my. We are living in those lines, aren’t we? Your sentence shows the universality of shifting context. I like that. I like that a lot.
Oh, Jennifer, I got shivers reading this poem and those last lines bring tears of hope and knowing, knowing that we will rise again. Wow. Thank you, thank you.
Jennifer, That is a powerful quote that brings a small grain of hope to me on this long weekend after what has already been a long new year of people trying to pull others into a pit of quiet despair. I have long held onto a belief that in the end, the “good guys” win – but it often takes a very long time. I do hope and pray your last line is prophetic.
Like Tammi’s poem, this is another poem to keep close. Been struggling to stay brave and seem to need these reminders. Poetry is hope.
Hi Jennifer,
Loved how this shows so much agency and how we will “rise” and “build” in the future. Hope lives!
Tammi, I love your prompt! Thank you for hosting today. Your poem carries such deeper meaning, both literal and figurative. It’s a poem for the day and our times.
I recently finished Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, so I reached for the book and found the last line to use as my inspiration for my poem today.
“Avery’s coming for pie. And there’s a Scrabble game to win, after all.” -Shelby Van Pelt from Remarkably Bright Creatures
On Playing Scrabble with My Children
there’s a Scrabble game to win
and you can be sure
the dictionary will be the referee
at the turntable deluxe edition
on their great great grandmother’s
refinished table where the
ancestors have refereed
their own games
Kim,
I loved Remarkably Bright Creatures, and I love how your last line captures your family together around the “refinished table”. Your poem feels rich with history, like there might even be another story to tell.
Thank you for your poem!
Kim, what a comforting image, one that transcends time and place. It has become a tradition for my younger son to get a new game at Christmas to take up to my parents’ house where we all gather and spend cold nights around the table. Laughter is the sound evoked. I love your dictionary referee and the refinished table bridging the past and present. I can see the future games and the circle continuing.
Kim, I smiled reading your poem, as I could envision the family at the table. It also brought the memories of my children and grandchildren playing Scribble. And you are absolutely right–“the dictionary will be the referee.”
What a perfect last line for you and this sweet poem. I love the mention of the table too–there is such rich history and story in these few lines. I was reminded of my grandma’s turntable under her Scrabble board too. I love that this wonder wouldn’t have come about today without Tammi’s prompt. Perfection!
Kim, this is a great line that spurs all kinds of Scrabble memories in me and many others. The use of the dictionary as the referee brings a smile. We used to call it a “challenge” and the consequence of being wrong was significant when my brother and I played “cutthroat” versions of this age-old game on our parents’ coffee table in his house as the fireplace crackled in the background.
Ooowwee, this is a keeper! I never would have thought about the games our ancestors played and refereed on tables! Love that so much.
Kim,
This delightful memory returns me to both watching my father play Scrabble w/ friends and playing w/ my youngest son. It gets competitive! I love the prominent place of the table and dictionary.