PROOF OF LIFE
I see
not you
but spray of crusts
and flock of birds
I see
not you
but steaming dish
and window cracked
and box with blanket
on porch on snow
I see
not you
but pawprints
from door to fence
to door to yard
to door to gate to door
to door to yard
to door to gate to door
I see
not you
but TV flicker
and lights on and lights off
and garbage cans out and garbage cans in
and garage door open and garage door closed
I see not you
but in this twilight rest
see quiet proof
of life intact
in winter’s grip
© 2018 Rebekah Hoeft. All rights reserved.
Click HERE to read this month's interview with Julie Fogliano. She has challenged us to stare out the window and write a poem about what we see. You might even consider writing something down every day for a week:
At the end of the week, read through what you wrote and write your favorite bits on a separate piece of paper. I bet there will be a poem in there somewhere… see if you can find it. – J. F.Leave your poem on our May 2018 padlet. While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, May 25th, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her stunning new picture book from Roaring Brook Press:
Such a unique and beautiful take on the window poem theme, Rebekah— I love it! Serves as a reminder that what's not there (or seems not to be) is just as important as what is.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Michelle! It became increasingly important this winter--aging neighbors who can't always hear knocking when we'd check on them meant I was reliant on the not there/there signs.
DeleteA different and wonderful look at our window memories, Rebekah.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Linda! I'm a nosy window watcher, so this was a fun one to write!
DeleteI love this one. Signs of life are all around us. We just need to pay attention.
ReplyDeleteThanks, David! I agree--I love finding little signs of life lived. Do you get sucked into those websites with pictures of abandoned buildings? I know I do--it's all about the little signs of life for me, not the creepiness!
DeleteI like the quiet notice at the beginning and end of your poem and the building presence in between!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Michelle! I was kinda going for a quiet insulated feeling 'cause snow and cold and not really being able to use my senses for this window peering, except for sight.
DeleteAh, this is a wonderful window! I really enjoyed this one. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I love the challenges here, don't you?!
ReplyDeleteAh, I love this. Since I work from home, I'm always looking for "proof of life" -- it lessens the isolation!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jesse! I'm sure your little gives you plenty of proof, but I'm sure seeing life outside your own space is a breath of fresh air sometimes!
Deletesounds like ever town every one busy but noticing little sins of the life living there with not see the people there how's lives are busy I love the journey this takes you on wail reading it
ReplyDelete:) Thanks, Jessica! I agree--little signs of life everywhere. My sister just wrote a haiku about how busy lives get in the way of seeing. I was glad for that reminder, and Julie's reminder through this theme, to slow it down this May.
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