Poet-three

It was one of my favorite days of the year in my class today-- our visiting poet friend came by to lead the students in some improv and poetry writing. Today the lesson was using the rule of three to compose tiny plays that are strung together to tell the story of the poet's life. As every year,  I participated fully, scribbling ideas furiously in my notebook alongside my kids.

Here are a few nuggets from my notebook:

I have been in my classroom
longer than in any home.
I love the way the sun shines
in my eyes on winter afternoons.
Being blinded helps me see.

A robin spent the morning buiding
her nest in the rafters of my deck.
When she flew away
I knocked it down before she could lay her eggs.

Sometimes when I walk the dog
in the early morning
I pretend I am the sole survivor
of some catastrophe.
I enjoy the silence.

On our first day at the beach
thousands of starfish
covered the sand,
and we thought it was normal.
We never saw another one.

A tiny mouse runs along the wall
of my classroom.
I know there is nothing for her to find.
I wish her no harm.

At night a fox
cries in the woods
across the way. It sounds
like something is dying.
Maybe it is.

When the sun makes a fishnet
of light at the bottom of the pool,
I dive in.