Poetry

I like that now you have the option to listen to music (well, you DID have the option…but, You Tube has taken that away! :0)) while I write….embedding bits of video as I go…I know my musical selections must keep you wondering….but, at least you can listen while you read, if that’s your choice. (I’m loving the real old clips coming out of Woodstock….Arlo Guthrie and Alice’s Restaurant…things including George Harrison and Phil Collins in his young days) I’m not a little ‘Blogging Machine’.  As I sit here listening to music, I go through piles and piles of marking….I am really a true ‘Marking Machine’!
 
Reading my students’ poetry transforms me!  I am in awe about human experiences and how teenagers, so young, can see the world as they do.  I am so impressed by their sensitivity to experiences of nature, family and friendship.  I am sad that in fact, they have already learned about loss and pain, but relieved to know that they also have explored resiliency and found new hope.  At times I am overwhelmed by the chore of teaching so many writers, but then I take pause and realize what a ‘magical’ thing it is that their words reach into my heart and sometimes give me comfort.  The practice of teaching is a wonder.
 
I met James Keelaghan in the doorway of my favourite dance spot, The Ironwood.  I had the chance to talk to him about my sister….and about sweet grass.  I love the smell of sweet grass.  It is a memory…a beautiful memory.

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