Haiku, #13

Photo from Wikimedia Commons, taken by Matt Lewis in Minneapolis in 2013,
but it looks like Denver in December, 2015

"twenty degrees and snowing"

despite cold snow icy roads
he does not want help
he will ride his bike
i imagine him
sliding
falling
knocked unconscious
laying broken
next to an unseeing car
and i send mother prayers
that his world
will soon be
a little warmer
a little kinder
and a little less bumpy

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2015


"mother prayer"
through dark, cold, and ice,
my man child rides his bike,
dear world, please be kind.
(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015

MAINE COON'S HAIKU by Michael Rosen.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a dog lover, all the way.
Cats?
I can definitely take them or leave them. Mostly leave them.

This week, however, I ran across a book that almost made me reconsider my opinion. The MAINE COON'S HAIKU AND OTHER POEMS FOR CAT LOVERS includes twenty haiku about different breeds of cats. The book is divided into four sections- two "Inside" and two "Outside." Each section includes haiku about five different breeds of cats.   Here are three of my favorites (but there were at least ten more I could have easily included!) :

Maine Coon

crouched before the couch

suddenly, cat has all night

for just one sound: mouse

Abssynian

curled up on your book

cat won't care what happens next

now's the only page

Turkish Angora

whooshing down the hall

Angora, then her all-white

dust devil of hair

End notes include factual information about each breed. Lee White's illustrations, some in two tones, some more, fit the book perfectly.

Poem- #12, almost a tanka

"To Our School Secretary"

She brings kindness, grace
organization, laughter to all.
That covering on her head?
Inconsequential, compared
to love in her heart.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015

Or maybe…

"To Our School Secretary"

She brings kindness, grace
organization, laughter to all.
That covering on her head?
Inconsequential, when she
lives and loves so well.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015

Poetry Friday

"Milkman"

we arrive at the dark back doors
at the same time every morning
sometimes he responds to my greeting
more often he does not
I hold the door
as he maneuvers
more weight than his old back
can comfortably manage

six hours later
i watch adolescents guzzle foam
from green waxed cartons
they do not comprehend
the load he has carried
the joy he has not had
for more than thirty years

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015

Tara is hosting Poetry Friday at A Teaching Life.

Poem #10

This poem came from a tweet yesterday by Carol Varsalona. Carol said, "Time to reflect on how past affects present..."

"Past Affects Present"
people tell me
my boys' brokenness
will one day
be a source of strength
sea glass rubbed smooth
right now
i only see sharp edges

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2015

or maybe a  real haiku (which is what we are supposed to be writing)

"Past affects present"
my boys' brokenness
one day a source of great strength
now only sharp edges

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015

When I was looking for the picture, I remembered that I had written about this once before, a couple of years ago. That one is here. 

Haiku #9

I teach in an urban setting. More than 90% of our students, including K, receive free lunch. Nevertheless, their willingness to give never ceases to amaze me. Today, one of our first graders arrived at school almost an hour early. I happened to be passing the front door and let her in. K couldn't wait to unzip her backpack and show me that she had brought "all her money" to our student council campaign for cancer. I felt so ashamed of all I do not give.

"Widow's Mite"

Donation, twelve cents, 

clutched in torn Tinkerbell purse, 

She possesses such wealth. 

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2015

SLICE OF LIFE/POEM #8

Today, in yet another incident of senseless violence, a police officer was shot and critically wounded three minutes away from my school. I was on middle school recess duty and watched the helicopter circle, wondering what was happening. Most of our kids, accustomed to the regular violence of our urban setting, hardly even stopped to look up at the sky.

"Prey"

Blue striped whirlybird

circles, swoops, circles again 

adolescents kick run shout
surreptitiously embrace

Am I the only one

who wonders what prey

this giant bird

is seeking?

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2015