A week or so ago I experimented with 6-room poetry with the poem Yellow Bird. Today my students and I tackled this approach–using a moment from our weekend as the topic for the poem. I wish you could have heard my students’ efforts–the one about the dead rat (really?) described as a mountain of fur, the outdoor haircut, and more.

Of course I wrote alongside the kids, using my unexpected dousing by a rogue wave on my walk on Sunday as my moment for the poem. And here it is:

Oops

April beach day

full sun

birds squawking

kids squealing

laughter floating

on the gentle sea breeze

Sun’s shine sparkles

dancing on the endless blue

birds dine

darting in and out of the surf

I squat low, creeping close

slowing turning my lens

to focus

on those long beaks, curved like straws

Out of the corner of my eye

I see it

I hear the rush

whoosh, shush

My movements seem

like slow motion as I stand

and run toward the shore

Too late!

I feel the cold

creep up, soaking

my leg from ankle to thigh

my jeans heavy

from the briny wetness

Surprise floods my brain

Phew! Luckily my camera

is dry

Click, click, click

®Douillard