Happy Poetry Friday,
Hamish and I are on the road again. We are at our Virginia Association of School Librarians Conference in Williamsburg, Virginia.
I know, I know...two conferences within two weeks is a lot for this librarian lady. Thankfully, Hamish has carried my heavy bookbags and helped me deliver signs (I'm the signage committee chair) to our beloved librarians working tirelessly for Virginia's students and school staff.
|Signs painted by: Walker's Colonial American Sign LLC. “Colonial American Sign Company Homepage - Our Story.” Walker's Colonial American Sign LLC, Squarespace, https://colonialamericansigncompany.com/about.|
The Inkling challenge this month was from me:
I’ve overthought this poem by 95%.
Comparatively, 95% of poets over-think.
Comparison is the thief of joy.
In my case, a thief stole my favorite pen.
My favorite pen drew houses with four windows.
Any open window forced a door to slam.
The front door slammed when I left.
I left without any goodbye words.
Goodbye words were impossible to find.
So, I rocked myself to sleep that night.
By myself, that night I thought nothing’s fair--
How could this be fair? No pen -- no words.
No words -- waiting to be found--
I’ve overthought this poem by 95% again.
(c) Linda Mitchell November '21
I invite you to write a poem of percent. I'd love to see it when you do. November nudges switching up recipes -- oven-roasting and soup stirring -- Thanksgiving pies! As you measure out ingredients by double or half think of how it could become part or all of a poem.