Dawn Ellner via Compfight
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when Mary Lee Hahn (A Year of Reading) suggested we write another renga and Jan Burkins (Burkins & Yaris) agreed. Both are such adventurous souls! You can see a description of the renga form and our first attempt at writing one together here.
I loved being able to write a second poem in the same form with the same people. It was interesting to observe how having multiple opportunities to write the same thing opened up new layers of understanding for me; understanding of my process, our collaboration, and the ways the poem works to create meaning for me. Multiple tries at the same thing are important for kids; they are important for adults!
At some moment during the second attempt, I began to see the stanzas of the poem not as a linear form whose meaning resolved as I read, but as layers piled on top of one another, sort of like a pair of polarizing sunglasses that, when tilted just right block out the flashes of light on a lake in summer. The layered stanzas helped me see words and ideas in sharper relief and in deeper hues because they made certain images and words stand out.
For example, Mary Lee’s sharp wheel of cheddar/round of brie connected so nicely to the round cracker-moon in the stanza before, turning that image of fullness into one that I could taste as well. Similarly, Jan pulled from my crusts of bread a wide palate (fresh…sour…vast) that broadened my original idea of sparseness into one that had texture and verve. Finally, I loved the way Jan took my image of the wrinkled face and transformed it into a memory, which Mary Lee carried downstream to serve as the very soil for the renewal of a “new land.”
Lots for me to learn from these two! What fun to write together.
But enough of my marveling. Here’s the poem.
as the hummingbird sips the nectar
I.
round moon not yet full
finds my cracker–full ‘til bitten
life full with roundness
sharp as a wheel of cheddar
smooth and creamy as brie
under the gnarled oak
an old couple tosses
dry crusts to the pigeons
we become what we take in
fresh foods, sour moods, vast ideas
II.
mountain peaks tower
above the endless plains
full — sharp — old — vast — inspiring
toward evening, golden sunlight
settled on her wrinkled face
inside she’s a girl
surprised by her reflection
in her dreams she runs
river carries silt downstream
building up the new island
III.
sweet alchemy —
orchard apples filled
by the light of a star
loose tooth lost with first bite
red orb of bittersweet
cold front passes through
scrubs away humidity
wren sings from the fence
once, he learned to see rainbows
in the oil on a street puddle
a skill important
for grownups who are often
too busy measuring
too concerned with to-do to
barter duty for beauty
You can find more poetry at Poetry for Children.