Open Write is a community meet-up to write poetry on the third Friday of every month for four days—an invitation to write, read, and reflect together. You’re welcome to write a poem each day or to come and go as you need. You can also read and leave a brief note—a line you loved, an image that stayed, a feeling a poem stirred—as a way of participating. We’re glad you’re here.
Our Host: Leilya Pitre

Hi there! I am Leilya Pitre from Ponchatoula, Louisiana, the Strawberry Capital of the World, and I feel fortunate to call this place home. I am an English educator, researcher, writer, and poet. This is my twenty-second year in the United States, and I am grateful for the work and life I have built here. I love to read, write, learn new things, travel, and spend time with my family and friends. I also love to cook and bake—my forms of meditation, relaxation, and recharging.
Inspiration
In Louisiana, we often use the word lagniappe, meaning “a little something extra.” It is an unexpected gift offered in generosity. Today, I welcome you to a little lagniappe: one more space for conversation, reflection, encouragement, or an unexpected poem.
Process
Today, I invite you to look back or look forward.
Look back: If you wrote with Mo, Kim, Sarah and Alora during the past three days, revisit one of your poems—or a poem shared by another teacher-poet in this space. You might reflect on your response to the poem, discuss your writing process, explore a craft choice, or consider a challenge or unexpected inspiration that shaped the piece. Your reflection may remain prose, become a poem, or move between the two.
Look forward: If you didn’t have an opportunity to join us or simply feel ready to write something new, try a short poetry form called the Gogyohka. Developed by Japanese poet Enta Kusakabe, a Gogyohka consists of five lines. Each line holds one phrase or breath, but there are no syllable counts, required themes, or preferred topics. You may write about anything that calls to you. That’s it: five concise but free lines.
Here is an example by Robert Lee Brewer:
Halloween
Ghosts hang
from the willow
as the children run
from one door
to the next.
You may write a single Gogyohka or create a series of them to develop a longer poem.
As always, you may completely disregard these suggestions and write whatever wants to be written today. Thank you for sharing this little extra space with us!
Leilya’s Poem
This first poem I wrote when drafting the prompt for the Open Write:
In the gentle chirping of morning,
In a cup of freshly brewed coffee,
In a brisk walk through the neighborhood,
A new day arrives bringing
Today’s hope, born from yesterday’s scar.
The second Gogyohka came to me when I was reading the third book from Before the Coffee Gets Cold series by Toshikazu Kawaguchi before bedtime the same day. This made me realize that a Gogyohka form may also offer a creative way to capture the essence of a story in five lines, a kind of a poetic summary that highlights its setting and central idea.
Before Coffee Gets Cold
In a little café in Tokyo
antique clocks
show different times
people travel into the past
to make peace with the present
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.
the season is changing
leaves all over the ground
cold breeze in the air
pumpkins all around
fall is finally here
To all of our hosts for September’s Open Write, thank you!! I’ve been wondering why folks were thanking Mo and realized I completely missed the first day. It just hit me today as I was searching for the email to write. Silly me. Wellllp…I will definitely respond today to you, Mo.
I did wonder about your absence.
Steps walking past
Pitter-patter in the rain
Reflections of a deep night sky
I stop and look through a window
I smile, then step on
Jonthan, this poem is so comforting and full of light while “in the rain.” Love “pitter-patter” bringing the scene alive. Thank you for sharing. Your poem made my morning complete–ready to go and greet my students with a smile.
Jonathan, this is a beauriful poem of breaths. I can hear and see it.
Your poem feels like a painting. Love the focus and the narrator’s smile adds joy and a bit of mystery.
Dear Friends,
Thank you for your words, your kind care, and generous sharing and commenting today. I enjoyed reading your Gogyohka poems and comments. You are the best part of my day today! I will return in the morning to see if someone else contributes. I appreciate you!
Leilya,
Thank you for hosting and for introducing me to a new form, which I’m happy to try. I love the simplicity of the Gogyohka. Your mentor poem is perfect and has me longing to return to Japan. Jen and I were reflecting on our trip there earlier today. My poem is in response to a series of public murals in Saulte St. Narie, Ontario.
public art
Gogyohka
a little public art
popping up in unexpected places
beautifying blighted spaces
reviving dormant downtowns
expanding artists’ audiences
Glenda Funk
Glenda, I love public art. Everywhere we go, my husband and I notice it. We have a few in New Orleans too.
I like the sound devices in your poem. The rhymes with /əz/ in places, spaces, audiences; alliteration in “popping…places,” “beautifying blighted,” “dormant downtowns,” and “artists’ audiences.” Something tells me, these are not accidental but intentionally crafted. Skillfully done!
Glenda, Your poem shares how art can elevate a place especially the blighted spaces. Your canvas rendition is gorgeous and models how strangers can become engaged with art in unexpected ways. Like right now, I want to know more about the art and artists. Gorgeous poem!
Glenda, such magical alliterative lines throughout. It makes me want to read it over and over. The photos are a sweet addition.
15 is a lot of years
I have called about euthanasia for my dog twice already,
I have planned a eulogy.
But here he is, running along the hallway to show me the walking shoes,
I have cried my eyes out, I am grateful,
We are both not ready yet.
Oh this is so hard, Yulia! I am doing the same with my 15 yr old cat. The vet says the end is near and I watch and worry and she is still happy and strong.
Yulia, I feel for you. It’s such a hard decision. The tears aren’t going to stop for a while.
Oh, Yulechka, I am sorry. It is such a tough call. You can never be ready. Thank you for writing and sharing! Sending hugs 🤗🙏
Yulia, my heart goes out to you. It’s one of the hardest things to do. I hope your precious boy gives you more love even in the ever after.
Julia,
Knowing when an older dog is ready to cross the Rainbow Bridge is one of life’s hardest decisions. I know you’ll cherish every walk w/ your fur baby.
I totally feel for you Yulia. I’ve been down the same road as you. Emotions make poems even more touching. best wishes
Oh, Yulia, what a sweet little pup, still young at ❤️, living fully even in old age. I want to learn from him.
Yulia, this was so heartbreaking. Beautiful poem, but so sorry you’re going through this. <3
Leilya, thanks for our final prompt this month! My other poems were too sad: I needed a happy one, and today’s classes inspired one.
September
Start of the year
and that moment
when the tide turns
and the doubts they harbor
(can she really help?)
turn to grins,
banter, and love of learning.
Wendy, thank you! I feel such a needed break in your poem “when the tide turns” ( love the alliteration here too!). We don’t need much to make us happy, so “grins, banter, and love of learning” sound so welcomed. I am happy with you!
This made me miss teaching! When their caution and uncertainty turns to trust…such a great moment you capture.
Yes Wendy, this is filled with hope and even promise in the grins and banter. I hope the poem heals a bit.
All I can say is “I love this!” It is such a great feeling to have your students turn to you, get to know you and love learning. Enjoy!
Yay, Wendy! Don’t you love seeing that shift in students? Enjoy!
My Future Classroom
Small hands reach toward me
with questions waiting to be answered
I guide them with patience
while learning beside them
and we grow together.
Love it! Your plan to learn with your students suggests you’re open to being taught! They’ll see that and model your openness and you’ll be able to reach and teach more students each year! Welcome aboard!
Esther, love how you envision your future classroom. Those “[s]mall hands reach[ing] toward you” bring so much joy. You are in a profession that requires lifelong learning. This is the best part. It never gets boring. Thank you for writing and sharing!
Esther, love that line “while learning beside them.” Beautiful.
Esther, I love the imagery in the first two lines. 🙂
Esther, what a sweet poem. The teacher & learner in you comes through. The best teacher is one who is also a learner, “and we grow together” Yes, yes! Beautiful poem! And I love the title–all the best to you as you prepare for your future classroom.
Really touching poem showing growth and an exciting future!
One more moment
With someone you love
I wish I had one more moment
Your presence fades away
But your memory
Stays right here with me
J W, my heart aches for you as I have the similar longing for “one more moment.” The memories stay and, hopefully, provide some comfort. Sending kind thoughts and peace your way.
JW, I’m wishing for that same moment. Sending warmth your way.
J W, your dear poem reminds me of Sharon’s poem about her grandma today. Your poem is universal and beautiful. Peace to you today.
JW, your poem speaks to so many of us. Wishing you comfort.
your poem is very heart felt, it has such deep meaning behind it
Leilya, I was delighted to learn about this new poetry form Gogyohka and to learn about lagniappe. What a wonderful word to add to my vocabulary. I love the mentor poem and the one you wrote, especially the last line that made me pause. You inspired my poem today thinking about what I often miss the most.
Sweater Weather
The day is gray
and the coffee is cold
but your sweater is warm
and comforting as the bear hugs
you used to give me.
Barb Edler
21 September 2026
Oh, Barb, these lines made me tear up: “but your sweater is warm / and comforting as the bear hugs.” Your special way with words delivers this longing skillfully. Thank you and sending hugs!
Barb- you painted a picture that made me cry…
Oh, Barb, this hits deep in my heart. Sending love. Keep that sweater close. 💜
Barb, this was so sweet and sad. <3
Oh, Barb, this is so lovely. Gray weather and cold coffee–it starts out grim, and then the BUT is “warm and comforting” Then that last line again gets so sad. What a poem that speaks so much, with so much emotional depth. Thank you for sharing. Peace to you.
So poignant, Barb. Also, FYI I was in southern Illinois yesterday and it was 97 degrees when I bought myself a lovely sweater.
Awww, Barb. Bittersweet warmth in a sweater – – such a sweet image, memorable and cherished.
Barb,
Your poem is so tender and full of a mother’s love. I can feel it in my heart. Really a perfect poem.
A very deep short poem starting somber but showing hope and resolution at the end. Well done.
this is so meaningful and emotional, its a great poem
Red ones trade
turns at the feed
posts in the weeds
which position
harvests more seed.
Thanks, Leilya, for the invitation to play with form today and be okay with something extra; however, I choose to leave it today. Thinking of Cardinals.
Sarah, I love the action of the cardinals in your poem. I especially appreciate your choice of words such as posts and harvests. The whole scene reminds me of a haiku, sharp and focused on a moment with nature.
Sarah, the image of “red ones” trading their turns at the feed is so alive–I can see their shifts and negotiations “in the weeds” instantly. Thanks for the hint to Cardinals; it would take me a minute to figure out, but I, too, see them in our front yard nowadays. Thank you!
Sarah, I could relate. We have wild strawberries and sunflowers growing under our feeders thanks to our birds! Loved the structure of this, too. 🙂
Look at your sweet word play and rhyming delights. I’m thinking of Cardinals too after reading your Gogyohka.
Sarah,
The Cardinals is my favorite bird and was also my father’s favorite bird, both in the aviary and baseball way of the word, so as we near the anniversary of his death in a few days, your poem takes on a special meaning for me. I finally received a photo of the new headstone my siblings and I purchased and designed last year for his grave. It features a Cardinals on the left side. Thanks for this celebration of a beautiful bird.
Such a special note, Glenda. Sending comfort as you and your family near the anniversary. I am now holding dear a memory of my father to carry today. Hugs
Leilya, thank you for hosting! I love the idea of lagniappe, and I appreciate this chance to write a little something more. It’s been a busy weekend, but I have enjoyed the opportunity to read and write with all of you. I was not familiar with the Gogyohka so I thought I’d give it a try. Your “chirping of morning” inspired me.
Who Watches Whom?
the osprey perches
on the highest, smallest limb
of the bald cypress
we adjust our binoculars
he releases his grasp and soars
Oh, Lori, what a lovely image. The specific details of the osprey perching in “highest, smallest limb” and “bald cypress” make me see this image. I love the title too!
I love these ospreys! On our harbor large poles were erected to be places for osprey nests. The ospreys came and I get to observe.
Lori, I’ve just watched that osprey landing on a tiny, highest limb with you, and I am in awe as it “releases his grasp and soars.” I often think with a line from the famous Chekov’s play: “Why don’t people fly like bids?” Thank you for writing and sharing with us these past four days!
Lori, Love it when the title is put to work like this — with the alliteration and meaning and question. It really sets us up. I liked reading that last like just a little bit as the osprey and a little bit as the one holding the binoculars. Nice.
Lori, wow, this is fantastic. I love your title and the specificity of “bald cypress”. Osprey is another key word choice, but the action is keen and one I understand well. Powerful!
Hi, Lori, I enjoyed the image of the osprey sitting high in the tree. I could imagine watching it through binoculars and seeing it suddenly fly away.
Lori, beautiful image!
New Stuff
had I not squandered studies when
we learned in school, I would know more stuff.
but to have new teachers here who bring the
world to me, like Marvell, is a marvel. Teachers
enough to keep me learning
and growing in this chapter of
time I have left. Thank you, ELA friends.
_______________________________________
I learn something new every day here: allusions, new vocabulary, new opportunities and more. Today, the word lagniappe from Leilya, yesterday that Lake Superior has a loop drive from Glenda, and about a metaphysical poet named Marvell who I feel like I never heard of before yesterday. I had heard of his most famous poem, “To His Coy Mistress“, but I don’t think I had read it before today. I used the first line for my golden shovel, and Scott used it in his poem yesterday here. Thank you, all for being my teachers.
We are so very lucky, aren’t we!?
Thank you, Denise! I noticed this line in Scott’s poem yesterday, but didn’t know from which poem it came. So wonderful to learn from all of you, indeed. You are so kind and generous in this tribute for our ELA community of poets. I like this acknowledgement:
“Teachers
enough to keep me learning
and growing in this chapter of
time I have left.”
Thank you, Leilya. I wrote such a long note on my poem, but I forgot to tell you thank you for the challenge today to find something extra. It was a good activity to think about that! Also, this line…”Today’s hope, born from yesterday’s scar.” What a beautiful truth.
I agree, Denise! I learn so much from this group (including all I learn from you and your poetry!).
Denise, your poems says it perfectly: I learn something new every time here! I told my son yesterday that this community has provided me a place to really learn to be a writer as well as a magician with words through watching profoundly gifted writers, like you. Thank you for being an amazing teacher and coach here!
Amen! We continue to learn from one another and I leave every day in awe/borderline envy!
Denise. What a lovely note to synthesize all the connections and learning. Beautiful. I am sitting with the borrowed line — but world enough — and all the ways this could mean. And then, when I moved through the lines with you, I found myself just entranced by the intersection. had I, then we learned, then world to me, then enough to keep, and growing, time I have…I am grateful to be in this chapter with you and all, indeed.
Denise, what a lovely nod to Ethical ELA friends and especially to Scott’s poem. I love the diction throughout your poem. Squandered is especially strong. I often imagine returning to school and wonder what it would have been like had I been more studious and focused. Alas, there’s no turning back time, but we can learn so much from our fellow writers. I know I often learn of new events from you and would love to visit Joshua Tree because of the way you have captured it in your own work. Thank you for sharing your gifts with us!
Denise, I like how the bold words create a hidden message throughout your poem. Your poem is a great reminder that we are never too old to keep learning and growing.
Ditto. Tritto! ! We write about the efficiency of writing poetry, but reading it is equally informative to me. Each month I’m inspired to try something new, and when I read others poems, I learn somebody new.
Thanks Leilya, for keeping the door opened!
What a golden treat!!!! I love the way we teach and learn here, too! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
🙂 Same! You crafted this perfectly, Denise! This community is so generous and profound and clever and knowledgeable and wise and empathetic; it truly “is a marvel.” This fellowship is such an embarrassment of riches as the saying goes, and I learn so much every month. Thank you for this!
Denise, I share your appreciation for all the new things we learn here from our fellow poets. we are blessed to be writers and learners.
Denise,
To His Coy Mistress is a favorite poem of mine and one I loved sharing w/ students. I memorized part of it years ago, so your poem is a lovely moment of reflection for me. I hope you know you are among my teachers. I love the reciprocity of our little quartet of wordsmiths.
Thank you, Leilya! I love the idea of trying out a new form!
After the Tests
The chair holds my weight
fluorescent lights hum above my breathing
footsteps pass—pause—pass again
every voice outside might be the one
the door stays closed
Melanie-the tension in this poem is palpable. Wow.
Melanie, such a rich imagery in these lines. I stopped at this very familiar “sound” as you so eloquently put in words: “fluorescent lights hum above my breathing.” And then the suspense of “pass–pause–pass again” made me rush to the end, and it’s still a mystery. Skillfully played!
Melanie, wow, what tension in the long wait for the test results. The fluorescent lights humming is so familiar.
This one takes me back to my undergrad days when the maple chairs with the attached writing areas sat in rows as we tried to share our learning in blue books! We’re back to that now, but the chairs are far more comfortable!
This is a wonderful, precise description of waiting for the doctor to come in. Made me grin! Most of the time they take too long to open that door!
Oh, that last line ‘the door stayes closed’ — that is something to sit with. Who has the power to open the door, literal and figurative. I am considering.
Sarah
Oooweee, Melanie, you had me holding my breath. Perfect final line. I hope you get results that allow you to be at ease.
On Stillness
by MonDaley 9/21/26
The sheer joy
Of seeing the secretive
Swainson’s thrush
On my viburnum
Is indescribable
So many things for me to look up! I love the image created here, the moment of such peace and joy. Beautiful!
Mo, let’s start that I had to look up “viburnum” – I often don’t know the folk names for the plants, much less their Latin names. I am imagining the little bird with a “secret plan” on your plant, and it makes me smile. It is a joy for eyes. Thank you!
You are such a sweet birder. I had to look up the bird and the bush to know what they looked like. I love the joy you get from finding special species to enjoy!
Wow, Mo, what a thrilling moment this must have been. I love your choice of words in this one: sheer joy, secretive, Swainson’s thrush, viburnum and indescribable. Dandy poem and perfect title!
Mo, I can feel the joy and excitement you experienced when you saw the bird. I like how you captured such a special moment in only five lines.
The WHAT on the WHAT? 🤣🤣🤣
If I know you, something here is a bird. Let me go search. 🩵
Leilya,
Thank you for hosting and ushering in lagniappe. I love the idea of looking backward and forward.
I read and enjoyed Before the Coffee Gets Cold and your Gogyoka captures the theme perfectly and made me smile remembering that sweet book. I love the innocence and community in your Halloween Gogyoka. Thanks for introducing us to a new-to-me form and showing us how will it can be used to distill the essence of a book or event.
Also, I got interrupted when I was commenting on your poem yesterday and again when I intended to finish the comment, so I’m glad to have this opportunity to revisit your poem and everyone else’s. Thank you!
_________________________________________________________
My Gentle Grandma
my gentle Grandma
shows up in my poems
three days in a row
a steady presence
even in her absence
_________________________________________________________
I’ll Carry With Me
I’ll carry with me
Leilya’s pebbles of sadness
joy seeping in the cracks
coexisting
with space to breathe
I’ll carry with me
Melanie’s Grandpa
rocking rhythm into words
her Granny telling it straight
together filling her with stories
I’ll carry with me
Barb’s ghosts
cooling her tea
eating her toast
welcome, unwelcome company
I’ll carry with me
Sarah’s sisters
sharing hips and cowlicks
links to heal
shared trauma
I’ll carry with me
Mo’s many brothers
Susan’s broken bridge
Jonathan’s loop of wondering
Margaret’s Grandmother Oak
I’ll carry with me
Jamie’s grandfather
showing affection
with secure seatbelts
teaching a life lesson
I’ll carry with me
Cayetana’s cut trees
wonders giving oxygen
homes and food
lost in Liberty
I’ll carry with me
Luke’s lush lilies
Susan A’s Fidelis and Catherine
A L’s land that surrounds
Anita’s welcoming front porches
I’ll carry with me
Emma’s it’s not the same
R G’s being a kid in Livonia
Kim’s timeline of forever
M S’s biggest blessing
I’ll carry with me
Nora’s students staying shut
Lori’s chaotic collections
LRP’s dreams turning into hope
A L’s map of scars
I’ll carry with me
Mercy’s memories fled far
Anna’s telephone to prayer
Wendy’s raindrops mingled
Kimberly’s whispering ancestors
I’ll carry with me
Boxer’s forgiveness on the inside
Denise’s tangles together in tapestry
Susan’s things unearthed
Scott’s Gentle Reminder: Be Kind
I’ll carry with me
Pamela’s sips of shame
Stefani’s collected internal, external scars
Scott’s prepositions in conjunction
Kevin’s singing along family lines
I’ll carry with me
Glenda’s proceed in the direction you desire
Allison smelling the clouds
Tammi’s back and back a lineage
Lori’s grandparents’ conversational snores
I’ll carry with me
Stacey’s stop scrolling and watch
Rachel’s melted ink
Gayle looking at the world
Fran’s canvas for God
I’ll carry with me
Linda’s picking up pinecones
Esther’s woman I dream of becoming
Catherine’s each hum, a gift of the past
Mo’s no immunity against hatred
I’ll carry with me
M S’s unfamiliar familiarity
J W’s only this chapter
M.E asking dwelling questions
me holding the handle
of my grandmother’s cast iron
I carry with me
Susan’s lifecycle even for me
Luke’s wayfaring wanderings
Jennifer’s many lives
crowding elevators and sports bar TVs
I’ll carry with me
Susie’s downright essential, therapeutic delicious
Mo’s Wine Laughter Wine Laughter Wine Laughter Sleep
Lori’s waves sweeping clean
Emily’s slow morning, quiet
Tracei’s thank you
I’ll carry with me
Melanie baking us
a pie of a poem
getting back to words
wild scuppernong words
I’ll carry with me
turning back to living
remembering those who came before us
our myriad I have manys
a community of poets
I’ll carry with me
writing together
showing our scars
dreaming with trees
echoing lines in praise
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Posted on my blog, pedaling poet, along with some other words of gratitude for our community.
Thank you, everyone for writing, posting and commenting.
Thank you, Kim, Mo, Sarah and Leilya for hosting and mentoring us this week.
Thank you, Sarah for creating this amazing space for us to write together.
I love the poem about your Grandma. It seemed so full of connection with her showing up in three poems.
Your poem that journeyed through the poems from the past few days…no words for the connections I felt reading, the remembrance of words past pulling us together! There was so much beauty there.
What a glorious poem, Sharon! Such a kind and generous tribute to all in this wonderful, supporting community. It reminds me of our #VerseLove bonding too. I noticed your heart aching for your Grandma this week; I get the same when I miss my loved ones who left so early.
Not to quote your entire poem, I want to carry this stanza with me:
I’ll carry with me
writing together
showing our scars
dreaming with trees
echoing lines in praise
Thank you for being such an essential and kind presence in this space!
Sharon, both your offerings today gave me goosebumps. As a Granny’s girl myself, I feel every line of your poem about your grandmother. Thank you for including us all in such a special way by commemorating our weekend poetry experience. It’s been a special four days of reading and writing.
You sure mined the gold, Sharon! It made me feel so good to have a reference from one of my poems included. You culled lines that touched me, too. And your culminating stanza is simply perfect.
Ah, Sharon, how touching and lovely! All the repetitions of “I’ll carry with me” feels like it adds strength. The more we carry, the stronger we are! Thank you for your poem today. Then the summary in those last two stanzas is so rich and beautiful. My favorite is “showing our scars.” Thank you.
I really enjoy the emotions this brought up for me. This really made me feel the community surrounding these poems!
Such a masterful tribute to this community, Sharon! Thank you for crafting this! So many good moments from the last few days. This is very cool!
Thanks, Leilya. Your prompts today got me writing and searching for new ideas. Thank you for today.
Autumn Leaf
The heat has scorched me
I am dried up
my green is gone
I turn yellow, then orange
getting crispy
Losing my hold on the branch
I fear falling
to a dark and hardened earth
where I crumble
and blend
into the dirt
making it richer
for the spring grass
to grow after the rains.
or this one…
Always hungry
gotta bake some cookies
hard to decide which
chocolate chips
or those delicious sugar ones?
Susan,
I love the shift from fearing, crumbling to
Hi, Sue! Both are wonderful: any cookies you bake will satisfy a craving tooth.
I am drawn to your personified autumn leaf going through “stages of life” and fearing for the end, but then finding a new purpose to:
blend
into the dirt
making it richer
for the spring grass
to grow after the rains.
I also like the expanding lines by the end, as if purpose is growing wider and more important. Thank you!
Wow! I love the way the autumn leaf found purpose in supporting the growth of spring. I also enjoy your cookie poem – chocolate chips for me!
Beautiful, Leilya, thank you for the opportunity to enjoy a little lagniappe! I love that word!
Your poems speak to me. I even love the “gentle chirping of morning” although I am not a bird fan.
Yesterday, I commented on Mercy’s poem and it inspired me today. I loved the idea of memories being frozen, so I chose my striking line from my comment to compose today’s golden shovel. My comment to Mercy was:Your poem resonated with me as I have begun realizing how many memories from my childhood seem to be frozen. When my sister and I talk about the past, it’s like we are both trying to defrost segments that hold all the love.
Golden Urn
Memories float on boats until we
watch the wave of time devour them like they are
mere flecks of dust. Some drown, some breathe—but never both
The more time spent trying
to give them a page, a song, a photo to
live in, the less we’ll ever need to defrost
the frozen ones. Ones that land between segments
of long-term and short-term, scattered dots that
never connect. Why not keep memories in golden urns to hold
them close, complete, and clear for all
generations to open the lids and release the
stories, adventures, and moments of unforgettable love
©Stacey L. Joy, 9/21/2026
Oh Stacey,
So much beauty here:
and
I loved reading the lines and then going back and readng the bold words as a line! I love this. The last line
Why not keep memories in golden urns to hold
them close, complete, and clear for all
generations to open the lids and release the
stories, adventures, and moments of unforgettable love
That was one I read aloud to savor the words. Thank you.
Stacey, this is “Golden Urn” indeed! I don’t know how you do it, but you are always my Queen of Golden Shovel. The line you chose is so wise, and it adds richness to your poem. The beginning is gorgeous with such a distinct imagery:
“Memories float on boats until we
watch the wave of time”
I am going to keep this one in my memory. But then I get to the end, and your idea of keeping the memories in golden urns comes out as another treasure for the generations ahead. Extraordinary! Thank you.
I appreciate that loving nickname “Queen of Golden Shovel” and want you to know it came up in my essay for Sarah’s series on Poets We Return To. I feel honored to have the nickname, but definitely don’t deserve it.
💛
Stacey, I like the way the golden urn is the holder of stories and adventures for future generations and how you made the golden shovel work in such a touching way today. You always do, and it’s a joy every time I read your poems.
Oh, Stacey, the possibility of a golden urn to hold memories close, release when desired, “the stories, adventures, and moments of unforgettable love” is such a lovely idea. I like the metaphor of defrosting memories with your sister. Since we don’t have golden urns, defrosting is a process that takes time but is so rewarding when you are able to do so.
Stacey, wow, what a great idea to use for your golden shovel poem today. The frozen memories and trying to release these resonates. I absolutely adore the last two words “unforgettable love”. What a powerful note to land on! Gorgeous poem!
Oh, yes, that line is, indeed, golden. Defrost segments and “open the lids” and “scatter dots.” Yes, let’s shake it all loose.
I cannot choose a favorite line! But I can choose the concept of a golden urn… beautiful!
Early morning
dew on the grass
eyes half shut
the bed calls out
but off I go
LRP,
I love the sense of forward progress even as
Your poem made me smile.
LRP, yes, even on those kinds of morning “off I go” is a must for many of us. I hear you though. the older I get, the more it seems I’d like to spend at least a few extra munities in bed, and I’m a morning person. Thank you for writing and sharing!
The personification of the bed is a wonderful twist! Perhaps that will be my excuse the next time I feel pressured to rise early – my bed is not ready to let me go!
LRP, my bed often calls to me as well! Yesterday was dark and rainy and the calling was loud!!
I love that I can relate to your writing, I think “off I go” was something we can all connect to!
I love this poem, so relatable but could be an inspiration to get out of bed
A slow morning, quiet
The children all gone
Far from me
I try to smile in the peace
But the tears still come.
Thank you, Leilya.
ooh there is a lot of depth in such a small package here. Great poem, Emily
Empty nest? I relish in the quiet mornings, and know that however far away they go, this will always be their home. Hugs.
Yes, empty nest!
Hi Emily,
I feel the emotions here in just five lines. Are you referring to your own children or your students? I felt that same emptiness with both my own and when I retired in June.
I just became an empty nester. It’s harder than I imagined!
Emily, this is the time of year when the children go off to college and the nest is empty. One smiles because it is a good thing but so sad to miss them. My nephew’s boys have just left and it is the first time that he and his wife will be home alone.
Emily,
You capture so well that struggle between sadness and acceptance.
Thank you, Emily! I know how it feels to let children go, and your “I try to smile in the peace / But the tears still come” hit too close to home. Sending kind thoughts.
This is so beautiful. The way you describe the your sadness even though it’s peaceful is very relatable
Emily, yes that empty nest is very unsettling for a very long time! There is the peace you describe and certainly less mess/dishes/laundry/driving was appreciated, but still the quiet, as you started, is there. Everyone who has watched the nest empty can relate.
These concise lines sure capture that longing when the kids are scattered.
Today’s poem drips and sweats.
I bear down on my pen—
Grip of strength or desperation.
Writing hard splits fibers.
This poem tears the page.
Leilya, I tried the first prompt and ended up a little agitated at my attempts, so the Gogyohka form allowed me to express the emotion I wanted to access. Thanks!
This looks like a great gogyohka to me. I feel your intended underlying sentiment
I think all of us who write can relate to this poem! I know I felt this way all last week while working on my novel. I love the image of the poem dripping and sweating and then tearing the page!
I love the descriptions given in your poem. The way you used your words to express your feelings about your other attempt is so clear.
Margaret! You nailed it…I hear the hammer and the nail!! Even though you were agitated, you crafted a powerful Gogyohka!
Margaret,
I love how you express the mental struggle of writing, giving it a full physicality.
There’s so much fun in reading this both literally and figuratively. The two meanings flipping back and forth in my brain.
Well crafted!
Margaret, I love your Gogyohka poem. Imagining the poem dripping and sweating breathes in life into it. The short sentence phrases work so well to support your message as if sharing the effort you make as writer: “Writing hard splits fibers.” and “This poem tears the page.”–Boom! Thank you for writing and sharing.
Oh, yes. That pen grip is a thing. Like gritting teeth, and sometimes we don’t even know where it comes from. I’m glad the Gogyohka form freed your emotions and set them free.
Margaret, the strong emotional reaction to the hard work of putting your thoughts into written words is loud and clear, Writing hard splits fibers – such a strong phrase of the effort put into strong writing.
Leilya thank you for hosting and for this new format, which I love! Your line ,Today’s hope, born from yesterday’s scar, touches me deeply as it represents how I have begin to feel about all writing. I write from the seeds of reading, writing and living. I write from the edges/scars of where I have left off. Today, I am sharing a 5 liner about my first born grand whose birthday is today. She and her cousin born three days later, were gifts from above to heal our broken family after a deep loss. Yet, she is her forging her own destiny.
These days, she stands tall, strong,
Ambitiously dreaming of the Olympics
Confidently facing new challenges,
Learning, friendships, Broadway shows,
Engineering marble runs before celebrating.
Anita, thank you for the kind words, your introduction to the poem, and sharing your five beautiful lines today! These lines are almost exactly the same, I want to say about my granddauther:
“she stands tall, strong,
Ambitiously dreaming of the Olympics”
I won’t be surprised if she is in gymnastics like my grandchild 🙂
I also admire confidence with which these younglings face new challenges. Thank you for this gift you brought to me (and all of us here) this morning!
LOVELY! PS, my grand is a swimmer/same dream!!!
Thanks for sharing 🏊🥽🥰
I love the strong character of your granddaughter that comes through!
Anita, sending hugs for the grand and for you! I know the feeling of the baby who is a gift when we experienced the loss of my mom and our family home. My great niece came to us years later but is the ray of sunshine and love we needed as a family.
I hope your girl has a fantastic birthday and a successful life ahead!
Anita,
There’s so much beauty and power in both your poem and your reflection.
There’s a poem in your prose!
Anita, I adore the focus of those with dreams – and it sounds like your granddaughter is on the path to realizing all she hopes, and staying confident in the process. Happy birthday to her, and to cousin in a few days. It’s time to celebrate this day!
Anita, what a lovely tribute to your granddaughter. I adore your closing line which shows so much about your granddaughter. I’m glad the grandchildren are helping to heal the scars. I’m sure your granddaughter will love your poem, too. Beautiful tribute to her birthday!
Leilya, thank you for hosting us today and for Alora and Mo and Sarah. I enjoy our week of writing together. Leilya, you show us how a poem can be written from our current reading and how we can use a short form to capture our thoughts. Yesterday’s scar is haunting and the fresh morning shows hope for the healing. I was thinking of simple moments and how poetry can capture memories – even as we play an unofficial card in a favorite game.
Dolly Mahjong 925
we played the Dolly card
it proved terribly hard
no Mahjonging for me
(unlike the other three)
official card is best, we all agree
Hi, Kim! Love how you capture the small delight of a shared game moment, in which even a little frustration is a part of your memory. The Dolly card has its own little story. The rhyming adds to the playfulness of your poem. Thank you for making me smile.
Kim, this is delightful in its capture of both the challenges of the unofficial tribute card! I did not buy it as I heard it was hard!!! Your “voice” is playful in this poem and a reminder that even serious players see the fun in trying new things.
Fun rhymes in this short poem.
Kim, how fun! I’ve been hearing about Mahjong more lately and had no idea it was such a highlight! I only saw it played on devices. Wow! I think it’s so cool to see it played in person. I know nothing about the Dolly card or official cards. 🤣
Sorry, Kim. I wrote Denise instead of your name. Not focused. But now I found the “edit” option!!
Kim, I’ve never played Mahjong so I’m a bit out of the loop while reading your poem. I need to hear more about this process. Losing Dolly is beyond painful especially when we need beautiful, generous artists in our lives.
Here’s an attempt at a Gogyohka pondering the looking back/looking forward theme. Thank you for hosting, Leilya, and also Mo, Kim, and Aida, and Sarah, and every single person that took time to join the community in any way this month, reading, writing, thinking, any of it. Thank you.
bonus day
not really
we cannot add
or take
from time
Luke, you speak such truth. Our most precious resource is time, and thank you for reminding us of this.
Yes, Luke, it’s true–it’s still the same time. Hopefully reading and writing a few minutes today will bring you some joy. Thank you for writing!
Luke, you are certainly right, but for those of us too exhausted from life to write yesterday, it is still a bonus!!!!
Luke,
I love your pithy philosophy on time.
Thanks for the reminder.
Luke, such a wise message in such few words. Marvelous poem!
Leilya—I needed this! Thank you for the kind inspiration. These lines:
“A new day arrives bringing/Today’s hope, born from yesterday’s scar.” were a comfort!
It’s Good
In times like these
it’s good to have
a dog for petting,
a cat for purring, and
a poem for writing.
Gjsands
9/18/26
Oh, Gayle, this sounds like a simple truth, but it’s so profound! I am grateful for my purring buddy every day. “A poem for writing” is especially welcomed this morning. Thank you!
Amen, Amen, Amen. Yes, the simple pleasures of connection are the best of all – through the unconditional love of our pets and the unconditional love of our poems. Beautiful!
Gayle, yes you have captured the need for peace and comfort that most of us crave deeply. This sums up my feelings perfectly
This poem makes me want a cat. I like your poem’s peaceful feeling.
Perfection!!!!!!
Ahhhh, Gayle, this is simply perfect. I love the actions and your title is perfect.
So good, Gayle! I simply love this. “In times like these,” we desperately need all three of those things!
Leiyla, This was an interesting challenge, reflecting on what we’ve written and read this month inspires us in different ways. Your lines.
people travel into the past/to make peace with the present
spawned this one from me today. Then it was interesting to see the AI graphic the poem “drew”. What fun!
Peace or Pieces?
Do we travel into the past
To make peace
Or make sense of the pieces?
Do we travel into the past
To make peace
Or to pray that the sorrow ceases?
Sometimes travel into the past
With poetry writing
Does both, in pieces.
Creating insights that may last.
Finding words to say it
May help us make sense real fast.
Laying the past onto the page,
Readers may even call us a sage
When we travel into the past.
Anna, thank you for joining us this morning! I am always inspired by your poems and rhyming skills. Your first two stanzas begin with questions that are important, and I especially like the response in the third stanza:
“Sometimes travel into the past
With poetry writing
Does both, in pieces.
Creating insights that may last.”
In fact, to me, any writing clarifies thinking and helps makes sense of events. I have already tried to post my response from the phone, but the moment I went to look closer at the image, I lost my comment. I like the pieces that come together as a pinnate–a compound leaf as in walnuts, pecans, or ash trees. Look, I learned a new word today 🙂
Thank you!
Anna, I have often told students that the reason we demand they write/reflect about their reading is to make sense of it! THEY rarely agree but I am totally agree that writing makes sense of the pieces and makes peace. Your connection of piece and peace is powerful
Anna,
I love this poem but especially the opening because it’s what I wonder about the world we are witnessing crumble to pieces:
I imagine the future generations will look at the past (our present) and wonder what created so many broken pieces and lost peace!
Anna,
I love these questions:
They do indeed echo your poems this week. And many of the rest of ours as well.
I love your take on this! The first-third stanzas are beautiful.
Gentle Reminder
Yellow Post-It Note
on the stack
of essays:
Be Kind.
This is their first one.
_____________________________________
Leilya, thank you for your mentor poem and your prompt today! I love the anaphora in your opening lines and the “hope” that arrives today after “yesterday’s scar.” For my offering, I’m gearing up to read their first essays, and I, sometimes, need to remind myself that an essay in September is vastly different than an essay in May, lol.
Scott, how I love this gentle reminder “Be Kind.” To my preservice teachers, I also remind to remember that they were, too, in that grade level writing that kind of essay just 3 or 5 years ago. Thank you!
Scott-that gentle reminder should be posted for every teacher this time of year! Lovely…
Scott, I love your perspective here. It was always hard for me to remember that not every student will be an English major, and I believe in the way you are approaching the grading with gentleness and kindness.
Scott, this is just a perfect reminder to all teachers. I just printed this our and will put it on MY post in note!
Good reminder and cheeky use of the form!
Perfect reminder! Find the gems that glow to make them see their potential. Sometimes hard to find in the rough early days of September.
Hahahah!!!! Great poem, smart advice, kind and compassionate teacher!
Scott,
This is such a beautiful distillation of your teaching philosophy.
It’s always so hard to adjust the mindset and expectations. That Post-It Note will help!
Scott, I love this poem. Yes, be kind. This is the perfect poem for beginning teachers.
Thanks for introducting both lagniappe and the gogyohka to us! Your lines
people travel into the past
to make peace with the present
really struck a chord with me, but when I think of it being a Japanese poet and form, the message shifts to a much deeper idea.
I went back and looked at a few of the poems I wrote on the 25th anniversary of 9/11, and I distilled one down into a gogyohka.
Twenty-Five Years Later
I carry the weight,
the scar,
every day
and I didn’t know a soul
who died.
~Susan Ahlbrand
21 September 2026
Susan, your poem is so resonant, especially the final two lines for me ” and I didn’t know a soul / who died ” I was far away, at my apartment in Crimea on 8/11/2001, and it shook me to the core. That scar is for life. Thank you for writing!
Ups, 9/11 –sorry. Typing on the phone.
Susan— this is the essence of our sorrow from that day. Beautiful.
Susan, I love that you took us back to the poems you wrote before and used a current inspiration to write a masterpiece for today. I still feel that, and will carry those weights, too, with me.
Susan, your poem strikes a chord with me. I spent the anniversary once again frozen in time by the reality of the horrific attacks. I knew many people yet only as parents/grandparents/neighbors/uncles/aunts/cousins of students or friends of students/ relatives. Yet, I knew people who worked nearby and people who worked at the WTC and the Pentagon but were not there, EVERYONE was impacted forever as you have captured perfectly. Thank you
The heaviness of this poem with the weight being carried makes the poem powerful. And I did know a soul who died.
Susan, This is amazing essence. I still feel the loss without having known anyone either. Collective loss. A day that changed history.
Susan,
I feel this.
Thank you.
Painful & powerful reminder of a tragic day none of us will ever forget.
☹️
Susan, wow, this one carries such an impact. I love the tension in the opening and the unexpected shift at the end. Bravo!
Beneath the brick
I hoped would pause
the bees from their hole,
the yard’s still a-buzz
with yellow-jackets
Kevin
Thank you, Kevin! Your Gogyohka came out wonderful with the bees. I like the consonance and onomatopoeia in “the yard’s still a-buzz” phrase.
Kevin, I know it is yellow jacket season. I got stung just last Friday while in the mountains. Your poem shows some frustration at how resilient those bees are. (Maybe they are in the wasp category?)
Oh, yikes!! We have the ginormous “june bug” beetles torturing us. I hope you get relief. Perfect gogyohka!