NPM: Day 15

I don't remember who shared this poem on Poetry Friday a while ago; I clicked on it and then couldn't close the link because I was so taken with it. It brought back many happy memories of reading to my children as they fell asleep.

Talking About the Day

Jim Daniels

Each night after reading three books to my two children—

we each picked one—to unwind them into dreamland,

I'd turn off the light and sit between their beds

in the wide junk-shop rocker I'd reupholstered blue,

still feeling the close-reading warmth of their bodies beside me,

and ask them to talk about the day—we did this,

we did that, sometimes leading somewhere, sometimes

not, but always ending up at the happy ending of now.

Here's the rest of the poem. 

I can't remember where I found this Jim Daniels poem, either, but I have it saved on my hard drive, and I've been reading it with students for years. We always discuss empathy and standing up for our friends when we read it. It's simple but profound.

Speech Class

Jim Daniels

We were outcasts –

you with your stutters,

me with my slurring –

and that was plenty for a friendship.

When we left class to go to the therapist

we hoped they wouldn’t laugh –

took turns reminding the teacher:

“Me and Joe have to go to speech clash now,”

or “M-m-me and J-Jim ha-have to go to

 s-s-speech now.”

Mrs. Clark, therapist, was also god, friend, mother.

Once she took us to the zoo on a field trip:

“Aw, you gonna go look at the monkeys?”

“Maybe they’ll teach you how to talk.”

We clenched teeth and went

and felt the sun and fed the animals

and were a family of broken words.

For years we both tried so hard

and I finally learned where to put my tongue and how to make the sounds

and graduated,

but the first time you left class without me

I felt that punch in the gut –

I felt like a deserter

and wanted you

to have my voice.

Today's line for the Progressive Poem is here.