"A Valentine for Ernest Mann"
Naomi Shihab Nye
walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two"
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.
Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide, In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.
The rest of the poem is here.
2 comments:
Oops. The round up is at Big A little a:
http://kidslitinformation.blogspot.com/2009/02/poetry-friday-here.html
I let her know about your post. Sorry for the confusion.
Nye doesn't even have to reinvent them, (the things life gives us) she just lets them fly. Thanks for this!
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