Thursday, November 23, 2017

Poetry Friday - One More

          Thanks to Carol, at Carol's Corner, for hosting Poetry Friday and sharing a wonderful new book about a special man and his special library. 
           I hope everyone had a good day of Thanksgiving!



          You may like to read this article about the origin of the poem form, The Golden Shovel. Or you might want to read the whole book by Nikki Grimes, out early this year,  One Last WordWisdom from the Harlem Renaissance, "all" written in this unique form. 


          Instead of 'one last word', I have one last poem about autumn, using one line from Loss by Carl Adamschick.





The first line must mention the wind,
in November, master of the lifting
of the trees, naked without their leaves,
stretching out as they turn from
summer, intermingling branches.
Linda Baie © All Rights Reserved



34 comments:

  1. Great poem, Linda! The Golden Shovel is a fun, if challenging, form and you use it well. I have a little surprise for you over on my Poetry Friday post today :)

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  2. Happy Thanksgiving, Linda! Well done with the Golden Shovel... a successful one has a lot to with choosing a strong source line, doesn't it? I like thinking of November as a master of the lifting of the trees... fresh! Thank you! xo

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    1. Hoping you had a lovely Thanksgiving, Irene. Thank you!

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  3. I love that you were brave enough to actual try it! I have been listening to the last leaves scuttling down my sidewalk all week, and you've captured it beautifully. I have been intrigued by golden shovel poetry since I won Nikki Grimes book, ONE LAST WORD, earlier this fall.

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    1. Thanks, Carol. One Last Word left me in awe at Grimes' mastery, Carol. I enjoyed it very much.

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  4. I love that you used the Golden Shovel form. I've enjoyed playing with it. The intermingling branches makes the image clear of how we see the skeleton of the tree once the leaves are all gone. Happy Thanksgiving!

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    1. Thanks, Margaret, The many trees in Denver's streets make me happy to see both with and without leaves. But at this time of year, they really do seem to be reaching out to each other.

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  5. It's about time I joined this Golden Shovel celebration! Happy holidays, my friend!

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    1. Thank you, Diane. I'm sure you would create beauty if you tried it! Hope you have wonderful holiday celebrations, too!

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  6. Lovely, Linda! What an evocative image of those trees stretching and lifting, bare-armed and intermingled.

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    1. Thanks, Michelle. I find the bare trees fascinating this time of year.

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  7. Your poem is a beautiful celebration of fall and nature.

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  8. I've been trying to get those November trees' bare arms into a poem, but look here -- you've done it so well, and you even included the wind and the intermingling. Well done!

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    1. Aw, thanks, Mary Lee. To me, they always look as if they're reaching for something, a connection.

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  9. As I look out at trees around me bending to the wind, your line:
    November, master of the lifting
    of the trees, naked without their leaves..
    comes to life, Linda. I know that your Thanksgiving was warm and filled with loved ones, which makes me very happy indeed.

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    1. Thank you, Tara. It was a special day and I know from your pictures, yours was, too.

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  10. This is lovely Linda--I can feel that master of lifting! And how cool to start your poem with a first line about a first line.

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    1. Thanks, Buffy, that first line felt important for some unknown reason. I'm glad you noticed!

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  11. Perfect connection between the poem's original line and the golden shovel that you created from it Linda–they flow together serendipitously. This line as Irene points out supports so much in your poem,
    "master of the lifting
    of the trees,"

    I'll look forward to the return of their buds in the spring. Thanks Linda!

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    1. It has been so warm here in November, often a snowy month that it seems wrong to be dark at 5. After the new year, yes, we'll be looking for those buds. Thanks, Michelle.

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  12. Wonderful golden shovel, Linda. I'm a great lover of dead trees - so elegant in their denuded state. A lot like your autumn trees. (I love live trees, too!)

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    1. My daughter was just in the desert and brought home many dead cacti, another interesting look at arm-like structures in nature. Thanks, Kat!

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  13. Oh, my.....I love that first line about the first line. What a wonderful poem. I also enjoy this form. I think I might have to try a poem about poetry. You make it look very fun.
    On another note, your poem to your late husband on his birthday was so moving. I imagine the loss of him during family gatherings is especially difficult. I wish you some time of peace and joy in new, sweet memories to blend with the older ones.

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    1. Thank you, Linda, for comments on both. A poem about poetry will be terrific. I save them in a journal, though really don't have all that have been written. As for the poem about my husband, written a few years ago, but it is part of what I think all the time. I miss much, but the sharing about things is a big part of it.

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  14. What a lovely farewell to fall. Now we wait for winter's snows to cover the ground and trees again to reveal yet more beauty before spring.

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    1. Thanks, Kay. We've had such warm weather that we're still waiting for that snow. I'm sure it will come, but it's late this year.

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  15. What a haunting poem and you chose a beautiful line for your golden shovel. We are seeing the last of the leaves here, drifts of gold in the park behind us, lifted by the weekend's gusts. When I look outside my window, it feels like something's missing.

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    1. Along with the missing leaves, we've had unusually warm days, so it feels like early autumn, but everything is bare. Thanks, Violet.

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  16. Lovely, Linda - when I think of trees, I think of you. Thank you for all the inspirations! XO

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    1. You're welcome, Robyn. I do love trees! Thanks for stopping by!

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  17. I'm enjoying Nikki Grimes' book too. The Golden Shovel form is so inviting, isn't it? It reminds me of the old saying "standing on the shoulders of giants." My favorite phrase in your poem is the branches, "stretching out as they turn from summer."

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    1. Thanks, Laura, and yes, I loved Nikki Grimes' book, too, in awe that she wrote all of it via the Golden Shovel.

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