Now, More Than Ever

Now, More Than Ever

Breathe
in hope,
then exhale
your gratitude.
Remember these truths:
students over standards,
patience over procedures,
compassion over compliance,
care over content, and grace over
gimmicks. We must humanize our teaching.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is an etheree.  It is also a found poem, comprised of bits of a post I read on the Nextdoor app, and this tweet by Shana V. White:

Unbounded

unbounded by walls

my classroom fits on my lap

hello front porch

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

This Is Just To Say

This Is Just To Say

I am not reading
the books
that patiently wait
on my shelves

and which
I should probably
have read
by now

Forgive me
I will read again
someday
maybe today


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


My mentor texts for this poem are William Carlos Williams and Kate Messner.

When I Stepped Outside for My Early Morning Walk

When I Stepped Outside for My Early Morning Walk

I was met by the moon,
full and bright, hanging low.
Good morning, Moon, I said.
What do you know?
And Moon said, Glow.

Few will notice
fewer will care.
All the more reason to always be there
and glow.

Waxing is joyous
waning is real.
Whether a sliver or the whole wheel,
you glow.

Find some light
get in its way
reflect that light with beam or ray
and glow.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

My Hands

My Hands

wrinkled cracked and dry

these clean clean clean clean clean hands

my gift to the world

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

This poem was inspired by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's Sharing our Notebooks video.

On My Walk

On My Walk

On my walk
around the block
what do I see?
I see a teddy bear
looking at me!

As we go
I look below
and what do I see?
I see chalk art
looking at me!

Walk some more
and on the door
what do I see?
I see a rainbow
looking at me!

Come back home
where we're alone.
What do I see?
A hopeful heart
is looking out for me.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

The Flipside: My National Poetry Month Project for 2020

My Joy

I see
you on my screen.
Hear your voice, check your work.
But I miss the reality
of you.

Your face --
pixilated --
so close, and yet so far.
No matter the distance, you are
my joy.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is a pair of cinquains. They were written in response to Liz Garton Scanlon's prompt.

So much about the world right now is scary and uncertain. That was always true, but it is in-our-faces true now. At the same time, there are amazing acts of generosity, compassion, connectedness, and creativity that are happening because of These Unprecedented Times. For myself, for my students, for my readers, I wanted to write poems this month that remind us what's on the flipside of the scary uncertainty.

Heidi has the first Poetry Friday Roundup of National Poetry Month 2020 at her blog, my juicy little universe.

Gratitude

Gratitude

I
give thanks
for the clouds.
Yes, the same ones
that spoiled your picnic,
that rained on your parade,
that flooded the soccer field.
I am thankful for clouds because
without them there'd be no rainbows, and
behind them there will always be blue skies.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is an etheree, written with gratitude to Liz Garton Scanlon for her poetry prompts.

National Poetry Month 2020: The Flipside

The Flipside

Your fear stings like a fresh paper cut.

The flipside is brave determination to never give up.

The changes are rollercoaster fast -- disorienting, dizzying.

The flipside is the steady predictable approach of Spring.

Our connection is like the two sides of a coin:

the flipside says, whether we are together or apart, we are joined.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020