Thank You, Poetry

Thank You, Poetry
The fourth graders
in their 10-year-old exuberance
are doing a unit on poetry.
Their poems,
markered on bright construction paper,
line the hall outside their classroom.


Eager words and passionate phrases
and beckon,
with those “strong” verbs
the teacher insists that they use.


Some, polished and proper,
some, witty and warm,
some, raw and real,
the author’s young heart pulsing through the paper.


Ice cream, puppies, horses, soccer…
subjects they know inside and out.
One boy, a shy dreamer,
questions in his slanted block letters
“When do seeds know to become trees?”
    W  O  W.


Thank you, poetry,
for your ocean of expression,
your glowing presence inside us all.
Bless these fourth grade souls
with your magic.
Keep your flame burning inside them
long after they finish this unit.

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