Irene Latham’s Nestlings

It’s Poetry Friday, this week Hosted by Jan Annino at Birdseed Studios. There, you will find links to information about poet Amanda Gorman, including info about her upcoming picture book CHANGE SINGS..

Today I tried writing a few nestlings. If you don’t know about Irene Latham’s book, THIS POEM IS A NEST, definitely check it out.

In this book, the author has written a long four part prose poem, each part about a season. This is the “nest.” Then, using only the words from that poem, she writes “nestlings.” A long poem is a good idea when composing your nest, as it gives you lots of word choices to write nestlings. And you want your nestlings to take you in different directions. Her nestlings cover topics such as time, colors, animals and much more.

Here is a poem I posted a while ago that I again revised. It’s my “nest.”

This happens to be the Bratislava Symphony
PLAY!
 

 Wind blows in from nowhere
 and the orchestra prepares.
 Leaves swirl on dry cracked dirt.
 Wind gusts louder and louder. 
 
 Pine trees sway to beckon 
 the dark clouds to play.
 Caterpillars hide. 
 Bees go away.
 
 All around, crows caw 
 like stage hands before the curtain.
 Fat drops dot the ground
 like tiny mirrors.. 
 
 Then . . . 
 Rain thumps.
 Leaves rattle like snare drums.
 Thunder booms!
 Cymbals clash!
 Lightening bolts flash.
 
 After, 
 the sun returns
 with the crows and bees.
 Maple trees bow, heavy with water
 
 And high in the balcony, 
 a rainbow applauds.
 

 © Janice Scully 2020
 

And below are my few nestlings. I found it challenging, but titles can be put to good use, and you can employ any word you like in a title.

 AUTUMN PLAY
 
 swirl and hide
 in rainbow 
 leaves—
 
 
 SUMMERTIME 
 
 dirt 
 on tiny hands
 

 OUTSIDE, IN WINTER
 
 sun flash
 in 
 mirrors
 

 IN SPRINGTIME WHAT TO LOOK OUT FOR
 
 On the ground-
 fat caterpillars.


 SOMETHING IMPOSSIBLE TO DO
 
 snare 
 rain 
 drops
 

 THE BEST THING TO DO IF YOU BOUGHT SOME:
 
 return
 cracked 
 cymbals
 

Writing nestlings gets you to think about words closely, a good thing for a poet. In Irene’s book you will find inspiration for all sorts of poems beyond nests and nestlings. It’s full of good ideas.

I just finished a three session workshop with Georgia Heard on revision. It was a wonderful group of poets, among them several Poetry Friday poets. Janet Wong attended one session adding her expertise. We spent much time discussing looking for places in a poem that are too abstract and replacing them with more evocative images. Georgia is a master at critiquing poems and is always kind and generous.

Have a good weekend and good luck as you try to get on the vaccine list. I am so happy scientists are front and center. Bless those working so hard to get the country going again. Yay science! Yay poetry!

THE GULLS OF APPLEDORE ISLAND

Thank you, Laura Shovan, for hosting Poetry Friday today Here.

First, what an amazing and stunning star-studded inauguration! It brought me so much joy to see the performing arts and music back on the national stage.

Here’s a link to a highlight of the day, the inaugural poem, by lovely and brilliant Amanda Gorman.

Acceptance of others was one theme of the day, so it reminded me of. . . . the gulls on Appledore Island. Bear with me.

A host in the past to the likes of Blackbeard and Captain John Smith, Appledore Island is a half mile wide, made of rock and shrubs. It is the largest in an archipelago seven miles off the coast of Maine known as the Isles of Shoals.

Research student Mary Caswell Stoddard from Yale arrived on Appledore Island in 2007 and found many hundreds of Herring Gulls, like this one, nesting:

Great Black-backed Gulls liked the one below, lived among them, too. They delighted in dive bombing researchers with a Kek Kek and bites to their legs and heads. Helmets are required gear.

But one day a newcomer was observed in a nest on a ledge on the island. It had yellow feet! It didn’t belong in Herring Gull territory. The new bird was a Lesser Black-backed Gull.

This yellow footed gull was soon observed “cavorting” on a cliff with another species, a Herring gull. Mary Stoddard, the researcher, noted that the newcomer was gradually accepted by the ornery Herring gulls nesting all around just as she herself, sitting in a makeshift blind, was accepted with time. The newcomer gull lived peacefully with the Appledore gull population.

Stoddard writes :

“. . . the initial excitement and the subsequent dullness eventually gave way to a satisfying equilibrium: At some point, I realized that I knew gull-speak. I understood the patterns and peculiarities of the Lesser Black-backed Gull and his mate–what times of day they preferred to incubate, which neighbors they particularly disliked, how they communicated with one another using mew calls and head tosses.”

Stoddard wrote about the gulls in Birdwatching Magazine. From 2008 to 2011, this same male Lesser Black-backed Gull (sex determined by DNA testing) returned to the exact same spot on Appledore to breed with his Herring Gull mate. They had chicks that survived, something that interested researchers, as the gull parents were of different species.

Nature is an endless well of stories about living things, like the Lesser Black-backed Gull, finding a way to live and thrive among others who are different.

This haiku might describe what the researcher saw through her binoculars.

Different kind of gull
stranger with bright yellow feet
preens on rocky ledge.

© Janice Scully 2021

If you’d like to hear the sounds gulls make click here.

I hope everyone is well and may we all get vaccinated soon.

After the Insurrection

Margaret Simon is hosting Poetry Friday today at Reflections on the Teche. Thank you Margaret.

I received a postcard from Diane Mayr this week celebrating the year of the ox, which portrays a bold hard working creature. Thank you, Diane.

A NEW YEAR--
HONEST DAY'S WORK NO LONGER
AN OXYMORON

By D.Mayer

I came across an article in the Syracuse Post Standard today about a family experiencing their garage floor caving in and I thought I’d use the article as a prompt. That seemed to resonate this week.

JANUARY 2021
 

 Below the floor 
 of her one car attached garage
 existed an empty space,
 unknown until
 

 today while she ate breakfast,
 her red Ford hatchback
 dropped with a crash through the floor,
 in a heap of cement dust,
 destroying the car. 
 

 The garage man had seen this before.
 Over time, road salt had weakened
 the floor, he said, as they stared down
 at the dusty red roof.
 

 They made arrangements
 to excavate the debris
 as she wiped tears
 and raged at her house,
 unexpectedly hollow.
 

 © Janice Scully 1/2021
 

 

 
 

In spite of all the fault lines and hollow people revealed in Washington, I do have hope and think that the government will weather it. I am thrilled that Joe Biden and Kamala Harris will soon be in charge. Welcome!

I hope everyone is safe.

Welcome 2021!

It’s Poetry Friday and my thanks to Sylvia Vardell for hosting at POETRY FOR CHILDREN. There you will find a wonderful and useful sneak preview of 2021 poetry books for kids.

It’s been a long few days. But I was thrilled to receive some lovely New Year postcards, a yearly event on Poetry Friday. Thank you Jone Rush Macculloch for organizing this. The result is that I received some gorgeous photos adorned with joyful poetry .

The following card and haiku by Mary Lee Hahn filled me with hope, perfect for New Years.

recently minted

shiny coin of here and now

ready to be spent

© Mary Lee Hahn

Carol Varsalona’s card reads like an invitation:

Upon the lake

silverdrops dance

as a new year arises.

breath in winter’s freshness.

exhale earth’s frostbitten bite.

Evolve!

© Carol Varsolona

The haiku on Jone’s card held a haunting moon and a haiku in Irish (I think), translated into English on the back.

first full moon

makes poetry wishes

happy new year

© Jone rush macculloch

This lovely bookmark created by Linda Mitchel had a poem on the back celebrating the year of the ox.

Here’s a haiku from me this week:

cardinal hunting

frozen seeds under a hedge–

crow on icy bough

© Janice Scully

My thoughts have been with the thousands of people who have been dying everyday with the Coronavirus. It breaks my heart. So much unnecessary suffering. God bless them and their families.