Poetry Friday: Chicken Scratches (George Shannon)

And I read Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs (Candlewick, 2010), a fantastic novel in verse by Ron Koertge. Strong poems, interesting characters–with a teen boy main character, and a good story. What more could you want?

I also read Chicken Scratches: Poultry Poems and Rooster Rhymes (Chronicle, 2010), by George Shannon and Lynn Brunelle, illustrated by Scott Menchin. I saw this one at ALA this summer and had to check it out.

Silly poems often don’t attract me, and I’ll admit a few poems in this book fell flat for me. But overall, this is a clever, dark collection that had me cackling! Here are two of my favorites:

Sick Day The day the rooster had the flu he could not cock-a-doodle-do. He could not walk. He could not talk. No one was sure just what to do. They called a doctor to the coop, who brought a bowl of chicken soup. "Drink up," he said. "It’s good for you. I promise it’s no one you know." –George Shannon and Lynn Brunelle

This second poem is unlike any of the other poems in the book, and I love its mix of fact and poetry and how it makes me view chickens in a whole new light.

Time Traveler

We chickens are a time trip,
we’re visions from the past–
we’re living, breathing relatives
of creatures long, long past.

My feathers, wings, and scaly feet
have ancient tales to tell
of Stegosaurus, Allosaurus,
locked inside each cell.

See the Archaeopteryx
emerging as I soar?
Listen to my cluck and hear
Tyrannosaurus roar!

Supersaurus, Hadrosaur,
Agilosaurus, too.
Velociraptor, Troodon,
the whole Jurassic crew.

All that dino DNA
lives in my family tree.
Want to see a dinosaur?
Just take a look at me!