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Showing posts from August 31, 2012

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

Wow, it's been quite a week. My first week of work with AmeriCorps, to be specific. Honestly, I'm pretty worn out from nine-hour days, so I'm just going to cut to the chase: The literacy program has not started yet, so I got to spend time with kindergarteners. Yep, that's right. The kindergarteners who are so adorable yet so wacky at the same time. It was such a tremendous shift of environment compared to my other teaching experiences, because as a kindergarten teacher, you work from an entirely different level. I gotta say, though, it was fun and fulfilling. Next week, it'll be time to support the second grade teachers at my assigned school. I'll be creating lesson plans for the literacy program, and I've already started collecting books for the year to do for read-alouds and discussions. This GIRLSmart program is extremely intense and a bit overwhelming, but I'm not afraid. Stressed, maybe, but not afraid. And I'm definitely enthusiastic about

Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 51.0: October 2nd, 2007

Moira by Belinda Roddie Out in autumn fields where the wheat is summer gold Catching butterflies in hopes of never growing old Every hue and pattern gives them all a different name The children hope by this, their lives will never be the same And when the glass jars shatter, all the colors fade to sky While in a separate entity beneath Apollo’s eye His bow is arched so proudly, at his love the arrows soar But thus she fades into the ocean, swallowed by the foam The air is heavy like a cloak upon a traveler’s brow Alone, he waits for destiny to make another call His name given in legend makes him raconteur and bard But acting like the butterflies, that too will he discard And on the water lies a dream that begs that it be saved Before it like Pandora’s hope dies in a shallow grave And voices raised will signify the time to help has passed And crescent brings the spinning world to pleasant peace at last Every wind that picks up here goes directly to the North Where shadows of our

Today's OneWord: Dehydrated

Simon was far too dehydrated to keep walking. His canteen was more than just dry - its inners were practically turned to bone, lifeless material with no marrow to suck. He stopped at the nearest yield sign and propped himself against the thin metal beam, closing his aching eyes. There were still two miles left to go before he hit town.