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
Thinking Through My Lens 