Finishing our Poetry

Our students have been working so hard on their poetry.  I have been so impressed with so much of the poetry that I have got to read.  Last week the students got back their first drafts.  I had taken them for about a week and written them a page of comments.

I love this idea of giving comments in the middle of the process.  I know when I got my comments back when I was in school the comments always came too late.  My paper was had been graded but at least now I knew what I could have improved.  This is why I love giving my comments in the middle of the process.  Students have an opportunity to look at their writing and make changes that might improve the piece.  It is quite fun to see the decisions that the students make as authors to make the poems shine.

We are also typing our final drafts.  I think this might be the most exciting thing to the students.  We have the laptop cart for the week.  Today the students just got a few minutes but tomorrow they will have more time to work on composing their poems on the computer.  Last week we had spent time with the laptops going over some basics.  We talked about saving, what the red underline means, how to get to the next line, and so much more.  By now the students are experts.

The class has also been reading poetry.  We have spent the last few days looking back at some of the poems that we have shared.  I know that most of the class has their favorites but the two poems that I have loved this year are "Plowboy" by Carl Sandburg and "Wolf" by Georgia Roberts Durston

PLOWBOY

AFTER the last red sunset glimmer,
Black on the line of a low hill rise,
Formed into moving shadows, I saw
A plowboy and two horses lined against the gray,
Plowing in the dusk the last furrow.
The turf had a gleam of brown,
And smell of soil was in the air,
And, cool and moist, a haze of April.

I shall remember you long,
Plowboy and horses against the sky in shadow.
I shall remember you and the picture
You made for me,
Turning the turf in the dusk
And haze of an April gloaming.

The Wolf

Georgia R. Durston

When the pale moon hides and the wild wind wails,

And over the treetops the nighthawk sails,

The gray wolf sits on the world's far rim

And howls: and it seems to comfort him.

The wolf is a lonely soul, you see,

No beast in the wood, nor bird in the tree,

But shuns his path; in the windy gloom

They give him plenty, and plenty of room.

So he sits with his long, lean face to the sky

Watching the ragged clouds go by.

There in the night, alone, apart,

Singing the song of his lone, wild heart.

Far away, on the world's dark rim 

He howls, and it seems to comfort him.

Hope you are all having a great week!