Happy Poetry Friday! Welcome, everyone! (Wondering what Poetry Friday is? Click here.)
A few good news items:
I’m presenting at the Iowa SCBWI Conference over Halloween weekend!
And I’m presenting with Dr. Sophie Ladd and some amazing nonfiction authors about mentor texts at NCTE this year? Anybody going?
And, finally, I signed a contract for another informational picture book with Charlesbridge recently. I’m so excited!
Okay, on to poetry! Y’all might know I’ve been in rather a dark place lately–with two family deaths; a housing, health, and work crisis for a daughter; and medical issues and chronic pain for me. So when I went to write a tritina (great explanation here) for our Poetry Sisters prompt this month…unicorns did not flit onto the page.
I started thinking about a topic while I was watering our deck plants. I wondered, “Why do we plant things that we know are going to die soon?” That grew somehow into a poem about the world being a dumpster fire. I toned that down just a little bit, but my poem is still melancholy. I feel joy edging in, though, and hopefully my poems will take an upbeat turn soon!
Meanwhile, here’s my draft 3:
Take a peek at the (hopefully cheerier) contributions of my poetry friends. I think this is a month where a lot of us were struggling to find the time and space for poetry :>)
Sara
Kelly
Click here to see all our previous Poetry Princesses collaborations.
Our Poetry Friday host is the heart-filled, nature-loving, maker/teacher/poet Amy Ludwig VanDerwater! Check out the Roundup and see what she has to share.
23 Responses
Even in the midst of pain and stress you write beautiful poetry. I love the word “goldfall” and how you use it to describe October. Thanks for the explanation of tritina with the great examples, too. Congratulations on your newly accepted book, Laura, and may many more good things follow soon.
Thanks, Rose!
I’m in full agreement with Rose. In the midst of hard truths you’ve naturally mined the diamonds from the tremendous pressure of the coal. I’m feeling gratitude for the glowing leftover.
Thanks, Tanita. It’s a fine line between mining the diamonds and just wallowing in the coal dust! I’m starting to depress myself, so…time to look for a cheerier thing to mine for a little while!
Laura, I have been away from Poetry Friday for a few weeks, but I am so sorry to hear about all your challenges. My heart goes out to you. I feel every word of your tritina. It fits this moment perfectly for me too. XOXO
Thank you so much, Tracey–hugs to you.
Laura, you’ve done remarkable work here. I think tritinas work best when you use enjambment and you have nailed it in this respect. There’s more focus on the poem overall than the end words, which is what I think makes this sing.
Thanks, Tricia. I wasn’t able to use multiple meanings of my words very much, which felt like a missed opportunity. So I’m happy that the enjambment shone a little bit :>)
So much love, Laura. Your gentle heart shines through, and “goldfall October” will stay with me. I wish you and your family some sun through the leaves and you, a bit less pain. The world grew brighter with the contract you just signed — congratulations. xo, a.
Thanks, Amy! xoxo
I’m so glad you have so many wonderful things in your life professionally and so many things to look forward to. I too loved “goldfall” and hope more good things will follow winter.
Thank you, Janice. I’m hoping for good things and goldfall for you this fall/winter. xoxo
You show us here so seamlessly that poetry can be a package for a cold wind as well as a golden sunset. You’ve placed us in nature looking at how seasons change at the same time seasons are changing in your own life. Thanks for that gift. And I will see you at NCTE, so we can hug in person.
This is gorgeous, Laura. I love the power of that title too. Honestly, melancholy poems are my favorite, though I’m sorry for all the very difficult life circumstances that have brought you to this melancholy point. I’m glad that some joy is edging in.
I want to stitch ‘goldfall October’ on a pillow. It’s the gloriousness in the midst of fading that gets me every time. Absolutely beautiful. I wish you moments of contemplation that soothe your soul in the rough places.
Good luck with your presentation, Laura, and congratulations on your book with Charlesbridge! Your poem is lovely and deep. I am glad you have your writing to express all the feelings you have now. I hope in your busy schedule you find time to walk among the “magic and glowing goldfall.”
Chiming in with others who love “goldfall October.” Melancholy poems are like singing the blues — somehow expressing sadness makes us feel better. Fall is a melancholy season — beautiful golden colors, yes, but it’s about transience and impermanence, something you expressed in your poem to great effect. Hoping more little joys find you in the coming months, and big congrats on your book contract!
Laura, somehow in this strange world there comes a time when life becomes fragile and uncertain. There are so many words and thoughts in your poem that bring melancholy front and center. YET there is hope. I like to think that a beautiful goldfall October will be the bright spot to bring hope.
I’ll be at NCTE and gloriously unburdened by presenting and CLA board-ing! Let’s plan to connect!
As for the dumpster fire world and the futile-seeming roles of poetry and houseplants and raising a swarm of black swallowtail caterpillars in a homemade insectarium…three cheers for the meaning-makers, no matter how ephemeral the joy. I believe that even the smallest actions work to counter the larger evil. Sometimes in ways we can’t know or imagine. So here’s to the “glowing leftovers.”
Have to hit those “glowing leftovers” and yes let’s feast on them! I’m sighing from your heartfelt, melancholic yet beautiful poem. Hold on to that light that’s rolling in, the forthcoming presentation, and new 📕 YAY!!! Congrats 🎉 on both! Sending hugs 🤗 your way, thanks Laura, xox
Such lovely and loving comments following your post and poem, Laura — I’m also swooning over the “goldfall” in the midst of your raw and honest look at the seasons and life. Sending hugs for all you all have been through lately. Congrats on the good news… hopefully that helps, but it’s good to give your heart this space it needs to grieve, and time. I’m not a big fan of winter, for more than a couple-few weeks anyway, but somehow spring’s seeds are buried there.
–Robyn HB
Oooooooo glowing leftovers!! This is lovely, Laura. I saw sandhill cranes last time I was in Wisconsin, but they were on their way south, I could feel it. Oh, and I’ll see you in Denver!! xo
Hi, dear friend! Although peering behind winter doesn’t seem to be showing a spring, the seeds are there, waiting for the right time to sprout. (I have been there, totally uncertain about the presence of seeds. I get it!) One foot in front of the other. Sending all the hugs xo