Thursday, November 29, 2007

More from "The Art of Teaching Writing"

Valentine for Ernest Mann
You can't order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the coundter, say, "I'll take two"
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.
Still, I like your spirit,
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live ina way that lets us find them...
Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us,
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but
not quite.
And let me know.
-Naomi Shihab Nye

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