WELCOME TO POETRY FRIDAY! Today I have the honor of hosting on this mid-August day.
What is Poetry Friday? Find out HERE, on Poet Renee LaTulippe’s website. In short, it’s a bevy of children’s book lovers, poets, teachers, librarians, and artists who share their blogs every week. What’s on my mind today? This book:
As I was roaming the children’s poetry shelf at my local bookstore this week, I discovered Nikki Grimes’ 2023 picture book A WALK IN THE WOODS, Illustrated by Jerry Pinkney and his son, Brian Pinkney. The back story, how this book came to be, is told eloquently in the back matter..
Briefly, Nikki Grimes, and a longtime friend of artist Jerry Pinkney, began a picture book together several years ago. The work to illustrate Grimes’ story was sadly interrupted by Jerry Pinkney’s death.
Fortunately, the artwork was continued by his son Brian Pinkney and also his niece Charnel Pinkney Barlow. It’s a story about a young man’s experience of loss after his Dad. What is it like for him to lose his father and what will be his path forward?
The poems and art are uplifting, hopeful, never too sentimental. Given the losses so many young people have experienced during the pandemic and through gun violence it’s fair to say that many are still grieving along with their families and will for a long time.
A WALK IN THE WOODS begins with this picture and text:
There is never an answer to such a question, but this young man’s father does answer him. He has left him a map of their beloved woods nearby, a place they both loved, with a red X marking a treasure waiting for him. Dad also leaves a key to the treasure.
So the young man is sent on a journey and he heads to the wood. What is this treasure? The reader wonders as we begin our walk in the woods.
Just being in nature is itself a comfort. Grimes writes:
The soft song of a Carolina Wren
settles me as I sidestep fallen limbs,
keep and eye peeled for rabbits,
and survey a stairway of mushrooms
sprouting from the trunk of a tree,
and with each step,
the hurt inside my heart pounds less and less.
Yes, nature has that affect on people. On the way into the woods, the boy encounters woodland creatures, beautifully illustrated: a rabbit, an eagle, a brood of grouse in a nest. Eventually he arrives at his destination: a treasure box. He opens it.
Inside the box are treasures Dad left behind for him are his sketches and poems from when he was a young man, here’s one:
Garter Snake
Quick!
Someone's coming to gather
the sun-beaten diamonds
along your coiled,
cold-blooded body.
I wonder how much those diamonds are worth?
HURRY!
Slither behind those rocks
leading into the woods.
I'll see you again, tomorrow.
Here’s another gorgeous page:
North East Red Fox
An earth of foxes is given chase.
Young Red Fox races the wind.
His cousins fall far behind.
What becomes of them?
Once safe, he pauses
and dares look back.
Too late?
On one page a Great Horned Owl looks out at us and on another, a deer, with Dad’s accompanying poems.
In the end, Dad has left an encouraging note and permission for the boy to write his own story, live his own life, which we all must do, after a loss:
I leave you these drawings,
these scribbles, and mostly, this forest--
the true treasure.
Finish my stories or not,
but this last page is for you, Son.
Draw and write your own story.
I'll always be watching.
This is a beautiful book and it made me think of losses in my life. After reading this picture book, I wrote a simple and short poem about my mother who has been gone for more than a few years, though she lived a long life. Though I was older than the main character in Grimes’ story, like the boy in the book, I see Mom’s eyes in my own eyes when I look in the mirror.
I have always found it hard to write about loss of a loved one. When writing about such things, it helps to have some distance.
To My Mom
I know you are gone
no need to be told
but you often feel near
to imagine, to hold.
When I look in the mirror
I look in your eyes
I'm used to it now
you're my Mom, no surprise.
My voice is like yours
so I have been told
so much of me
seems directly bestowed.
Still I am myself,
as I miss you so much,
and will never forget
your care and your touch.
© Janice Scully 2024
Have a great weekend. I look forward to reading your posts!
Thanks for your rich post Janice, your sensitive and caring poem about your mom, and Nikki Grime’s touching poetry book on loss, with lovely art! Thanks also for hosting the roundup this week!
Your poem to your mom is so lovely! I loved A WALK IN THE WOODS too. Thank you for hosting!
Such beautiful illustrations for A Walk in the Woods. What a meaningful project for his family to finish. I like “so much of me/seems directly bestowed.” Thanks for hosting!
I love the poem for your mother, Janice. I “know” of that part about the eyes! And I, too, love Nikki Grimes’ poignant book. Thanks for reminding me of all its beauty!
I love this book too!
Your poem to your mom is especially touching. I love this line: “but you often feel near.”
My mom’s been gone 33 years, but I love it when she pops into my dreams. Thanks for hosting.
Now I want to go back and reread this book! It’s all kinds of special.
And so are your thoughts about writing through loss from a distance, and your poem for your mom. I see my mom in my hands, and even though she’s been gone eight years, there are moments when I miss her so hard. Just to have the chance to share something I know she would have loved…sigh.
Thanks for hosting us today!
A Walk in the Woods is such a special book! Thank you for honoring it today, for hosting, and for sharing your heartfelt words about your mom.
This is a beautiful book that I kept from a collection I received for judging the Lee Bennet Hopkins award. I love how the book shows that loss can become something that strengthens rather than weakens you. Like you, I see more and more of my mother in the mirror these days. Poetry is a way to notice who you are and where you come from. Hugs. Thanks for hosting.
Dear Janice, I needed this today. Our time with loved ones is so precious, and our time in the woods is too! I’ve been reading LET US DESCEND by Jesmyn Ward. Gorgeous. And it speaks of how the spirits of the ones who have passed long for us to call to them, to reach out….Thank you. xo
I enjoyed your dog poem, especially as my son has a new puppy and we’re all about things like doggie treats and enjoying his antics. I read Let Us Descend a while ago but am tempted to reread it. Here’s to lost spirits reaching out!
Janice, what a beautiful and touching post in every way. ❤️
What a beautiful book, and I love how it inspired you to write about your own parent. Thank you for sharing this with us!
Thanks for hosting Janice! The book, your commentary, the illustrations, and your subsequent poetry about your mom are all gorgeously bestowed (to borrow your well-used word) upon this week Janice. Thank you!
I’ve been trying to write a poem about my mom (an Ode) whom I lost last summer (2023) it has been difficult. Maybe, I need more distance, as you said.
Janice, you have provided an excellent overview of this Nikki Grimes book and the back story adds poignancy to what you have shared. I like the fact that it has elicited such a heartfelt response from you as well.
Janice, thanks for hosting. I would have had my post earlier but all 3 grandgirls have been with me since yesterday. There is never time to write when they are here so the few minutes that I do have are not much. I hope to put up my post later tonight. Thank you for introducing to me a tender book with fabulous illustrations. The Beautiful lines that resonated with me are:
“will never forget
your care and your touch”.
I loved A WALK IN THE WOODS too, Janice. Our PB study group did a deep dive a few months ago on PBs about grief. Our one unanswered question: Why do you think the dad never gave his poems to his son while he was alive? And then I think about your poem for your/about your mom and my own mom and I imagine the deeply personal feelings contained in our hearts, our bodies, our words. And now I feel a tiny bit closer to understanding this decision.
Hi Patricia,
Thank you for reading. I figure he might not have had a chance, found the right time.
Sorry to be late to commenting, Janice, but then it’s wonderful to read everyone else’s thoughtful responses, too. Thanks for shining the light on this special, beautiful book. And thank you for sharing such a personal poem that resonates with so many. Lots of gifts over here this week, and much appreciated.