I hope all those who celebrate had a wonderful Thanksgiving, Over the years, it's become a day to reflect on those I have in my life and give thanks.
Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies} is on hosting duties this week. I read the November challenge: Here’s the scoop: We’re taking a line or theme plucked from Jane Hirschfield’s TWO VERSIONS, a poem that appears in her collection The Asking: New and Selected Poems (scroll to the second page to see the poem). Here is where you can find the #PoetryPals poems: Tanita, Laura, Mary Lee, Liz, Sara, Tricia, and Kelly I thought cool beans, I'm in. SOMEHOW, I missed the scrolling to the second page to see the poem. Somehow, I looked up "Two Versions" by Jane Hirschfield and was led to "Poem With Two Endings". The universe is mysterious. The universe knew I needed this poem so it's the one I took a line from to participate the challenge (now for me a Jane Hirschfield challenge, not a "Two Versions" challenge Poem With Two Endings by Jane Hirschfield Say ‘death’ and the whole room freezes – even the couches stop moving, even the lamps. Like a squirrel suddenly aware it is being looked at. (click on the title for the whole poem)  Karen is third from left with walking sticks.
You see, last week, I went to the celebration of life for my co-worker of twenty plus years. She was my media assistant. She was a quiet force that saw to everyone's needs. It was fitting that her last name was Starr. It's been a sad month (on so many levels). Her service was filled with those who loved her. I've written three poems about my grief, all of them golden shovels and one from the Hirschfield poem.
It was a gift to be with my friend, Karen in her final days. We reminisced and I caught her up my life. I will miss her so much. I am so thankful that last July, we were able to get to the Norwegian Troll in SW Portland. There are several of them in the PNW. She'd only seen the one in Ballard, WA.
Here's the most recent golden shovel from Hirschfeld's "Poem with Two Endings"
Say “death” and the whole room freezes– —from “Poem with Two Endings" by Jane Hirschfield That day you called to say you were diagnosed with a brain tumor, death was not part of your vocabulary. And if I am being honest, you made the word your challenge. You strategized living whole: travel, reading, and staying strong for us. Now the room is filled with those who loved you. The air freezes– –a candle is lit, remembering you this first Thanksgiving ©jone rush macculloch, draft 2024 
An Invitation
It's 34 days until the new year! Time to start thinking of sending New Year Post Cards! I've have also been thinking that this is an excellent way to incorporate the small poems that some have been writing thanks to Mary Lee Hahn and the hashtag #haikuforhealing2024 and mine #haikuforresilience2024 (I suspect we'll need to change to 2025)
Send five, send ten or send to all? In Japan, it’s called Nengajo, a Japanese custom of ushering in the new year. How It Works:
Ruth at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town. She has a beautiful poem for the the them of "My world, your world, our world." It was suggested by Linda Mitchell for our Spiritual Thursday Journey theme for this month.
About this time of year, I reflect on my One Little Word and start thinking about the word for the new year. I like to incorporate something about the word. This year my word has been 'expand' and it includes risk. It has been an excellent word for me. This is the postcard I sent out last year.
It's 39 days until the new year! Time to start thinking of sending New Year Post Cards! I've have also been thinking that this is an excellent way to incorporate the small poems that some have been writing thanks to Mary Lee Hahn and the hashtag #haikuforhealing2024 and mine #haikuforresilience2024 (I suspect we'll need to change to 2025) Send five, send ten or send to all? In Japan, it’s called Nengajo, a Japanese custom of ushering in the new year. How It Works:
Another possible idea for January 2025. I have been thinking a bunch about the marches through out the US on Saturday, January, 18, 2025 as well as the need for a distraction on Sunday, January 19, 2025.
I would like to offer a Zoom meeting as a safe space to write or create art . I am inclined to set it up for whatever day is better. I am thinking of 11:00 AM Eastern Standard Time (which will be 8:00 AM on the west coast and will give me time to grab a coffee). Please indicate in the comments if that is something that interests you. Art invites us to know beauty and to solicit it, summon it, from even the most tragic of circumstances. ~Toni Morrison
Thanks to Karen at Karen Edmisten* for hosting Poetry Friday this week. She is sharing an Ellen Bass poem that had me at "the smell of grated ginger."
This week, I subbed for in a fifth grade class for my friend who was a teacher librarian and was moved into the classroom as a result of the district getting rid of the library positions. She has a fabulous class. She left me a Joyce Sidman unit of poetry for the week. So I read:
When In Doubt When in doubt. take a nap. Even at 10 in the morning. When in doubt eat the dark chocolate stashed in the drawer labeled “when in doubt”. When in doubt go outside at night. Look for the newest stars. Name them. When in doubt reread letters you’ve saved in a box. It’s your history. When in doubt talk to the neighborhood crow. The one who brings you trinkets. When in doubt drive to the coast. Count the waves. When in doubt sip tea at your local tea shop. Read the tea leaves. When in doubt text your friends. Let them know they’re loved. © Jone Rush MacCulloch The class wrote poems in response to Night Emperor and This is Just to Say. In the Padlet, you will also see my "This is Just to Say" poem, regarding teaching fractions in math this week. I am so hopeless in teaching math!! Poetry Friday, Week 44: Taking the November Challenge by the Inklings with a Tie In to SJT11/8/2024
 Linda at A Word Edgewise hosted Spiritual Journey Thursday last week and her prompt was "world". She also shared her prompt for the The Inklings: As we enter Native American Heritage Month I ask that you respond to Joy Harjo's Fall Song in any way that makes your heart happy. I needed this prompt. Have you read Harjo's poem? It's so good. It has been fuel for three poems.  Thank you, Linda for this incredible poem. There are so many juicy lines in this. I was Between the election and the passing of a friend, it's been a week. I turn to writing and art in times such as these. Today, I'm sharing two with the focus on Linda's prompt for SJT. Thank you to Cathy at Merely Day by Day and her powerful poem, "In the Mourning". The Greyness of Winter The earth is slightly damp with rain From “Fall Song” by Joy Harjo I voted. Then bided my time for the results to come in by digging in the earth. Planting bulbs to contrast the greyness of winter. Is it too early for hope? I slightly pat down the mulch with a damp hand. The one with cramps from the letter writing. My eyes spill rain. ©jone rush macculloch, draft, 2024 When the World is Unhinged
Is there another word for ‘‘divine’’? From “Fall Song” by Joy Harjo Our world is unhinged at this moment. There is anger, fear, and worry for one another. It feels like actions and words of the our better angels cannot compensate for the collective sadness of now. How do we contact the divine? ©jone rush macculloch, draft, 2024 |
AuthorAll photos and poems in these blog posts are copyrighted to Jone Rush MacCulloch 2006- Present. Please do not copy, reprint or reproduce without written permission from me. 
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