Poetry

Yesterday when I went to post, Blogger wasn't working! By the time I could get back on, it was writing group time, so I'll share a draft of my poem this morning and something more later on.


BOXES-
all our stuff
piled in the garage
stacks and stacks and stacks
of brown cardboard

Where do we begin
making this house our home?

Do I find dishes -
spoons, plates, coffee mugs?

Do I open the books -
Billy Collins?
Sark?
Junie B. Jones?

Do I look for a box with photos -
the Disney trip?
the family around the Christmas tree?
dimple-skinned babies with chubby, creased arms?

Is this how I make a home?
Is this the right box to unpack?

No.

It's pizza covered in ham and pineapple
with the family on a Friday night.

It's a summer afternoon
with crayon-shaped water-shooters
spraying the backyard.

It's the kids
munching pink bagels with grape jelly
splashing in tub with blue-haired Barbies
sleeping under a tent of stuffed animals.

It's Domino the cat
high on the white TV cabinet
nestled in green leaves.

It's Shakespeare and Sasha
noses to the glass
tails thumping to their own rhythm
waiting to come in.

It's a pen in my hand,
a notebook on my desk
gazing at the sun
in the pink and orange sky.

Have a fantastic day! Later I'll tell you about all my HOMEWORK!!!
Ms. Hagen