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Life on the Deckle Edge

The Kidlit 2004 Progressive Poem Parks HERE today!

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Welcome to the next-to-the-last day of the 2024 Kidlit Progressive Poem.  Thanks to Irene Latham for beginning this communal adventure years ago, and thanks to Margaret Simon who coordinates it now. 

 

This year's poem is unlike others we've had in the past.  Each poet is contributing a couplet rather than a single line, and the subject and theme are tied to realities that are timely, important, and fraught for people living through them.

 

We've come to care for our young narrator and the narrator's brother, worrying for them and wishing them success as they make their way with a group to the border. I've been a bit apprehensive about contributing my line(s).  I've known a couple of migrant families over the years, but I don't know anyone going through this now, and I don't have time to do the deep research I would attempt if I were writing something about migrant families myself.  I watch the news and pray for those seeking asylum, for those who weren't born into the same opportunities I was.

 

I must confess I'm not entirely sure which side of the border our children are on here at the end of the poem.  In my reading, they haven't yet crossed the border into the US (assuming the US is the final destination), but have found a freindly village to wait in? 

 

The end of this poem could go in more than one direction.  It wouldn't be unrealistic to leave everything unresolved, and leave our young travelers wanting.  Real children experience this, and families might wait for years before moving on. Also, I wasn't exactly sure how to continue the involvement of a beloved uncle recently introduced and spotlighted in yesterday's lines from Dave.  Whichever side of the border the children are on, Tío is on the other side. An uncle in the US can't sponsor nieces or nephews, but perhaps he can visit family members waiting in a village across the border?

 

I'm not sure.  But the "yet" in a previous line offers a tiny shaft of light.  It's my own bent to leave a bit of hope in any writing for kids, so, while acknowledging that many children suffer in this process of seeking a new life in a place far from home, I want to continue in a positive vein for our poem's characters. (My lines are in bold.)

 

 

Cradled in stars, our planet sleeps,

Clinging to tender dreams of peace

Sister moon watches from afar,

Singing lunar lullabies of hope.

 

Almost dawn, I walk with others,

Keeping close, my little brother.

Hand in hand, we carry courage

escaping closer to the border

 

My feet are lightning;

My heart is thunder.

Our pace draws us closer

To a new land of wonder.

 

I bristle against rough brush—

Poppies ahead brighten the browns.

Morning light won't stay away—

Hearts jump at every sound.

 

I hum my own little song

Like ripples in a stream

Humming Mami's lullaby

Reminds me I have her letter

 

My fingers linger on well-worn creases,

Shielding an address, a name, a promise–

Sister Moon will find always us

Surrounding us with beams of kindness

 

But last night as we rested in the dusty field,

Worries crept in about matters back home.

I huddled close to my brother. Tears revealed

The no-choice need to escape.  I feel grown.

 

Leaving all I've ever known

The tender, heavy, harsh of home.

On to maybes, on to dreams,

On to whispers we hope could be.

 

But I don't want to whisper! I squeeze Manu's hand.

"¡Más cerca ahora!" Our feet pound the sand.

We race, we pant, we lean on each other

I open my canteen and drink gratefully

 

Thirst is slaked, but I know we'll need

More than water to achieve our dreams.

Nights pass slowly, but days call for speed

Through the highs and the lows, we live with extremes

 

 We enter a village the one from Mami's letter,

 We find the steeple; food, kindly people, and shelter.

 "We made it, Manu! Mami would be so proud!"

 I choke back a sob, then stand tall for the crowd.

 

A slapping of sandals… I wake to the sound

Of ¡GOL! Manu's playing! The fútbol rebounds.

I pinch myself. Can this be true?

Are we safe at last? Is our journey through?

 

I savor this safety, we're enveloped with care,

but Tío across the border, still seems far as stars.

He could not yet come to this new place

But Hermana moon, kiss his tear-stained face

 

¿Dónde está mi querido Tío? (Where is my Dear Uncle?)

¡Mi corazón está muy frío! (My heart is very cold)

Emerging from clouds, the sun warms my back.

A deep voice calls; Manu freezes and I spin around.  

 

 

In addition to providing those heart-touching lines in Spanish, Dave also updated the list of participants and links  in his post.  Thanks, Dave!  

Here are the folks participating this year, without the hyperlinks. (Sorry – been out of town at a conference and under a tight deadline.)

 

April 1 – Patricia Franz at Reverie 

April 2 – Jone at Jone Rush MacCulloch  

April 3  – Janice at Salt City Verse 

April 4 – Leigh Anne at A Day in the Life 

April 5 – Irene at Live Your Poem 

April 6 – Margaret at Reflections on the Teche 

April 7 – Marcie at Marcie Atkins 

April 8 – Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town 

April 9 – Karen at Karen's Got a Blog

April 10 – Linda at Teacher Dance 

April 11 – Buffy at Buffy Silverman 

April 12 – Linda at  A Word Edgewise 

April 13 – Denise at Dare to Care 

April 14 – Carol at Beyond Literacy Link 

April 15 – Rose at Imagine the Possibilities 

April 16 – Sarah Grace at Sarah Grace Tuttle 

April 17 – Heidi at my juicy little universe 

April 18 – Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference 

April 19 – Catherine at Reading to the Core 

April 20 – Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect 

April 21 – Janet, hosted at Reflections on the Teche 

April 22 – Mary Lee  at A(nother) Year of Reading 

April 23 – Tanita at (fiction, instead of lies) 

April 24 – Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone 

April 25 – Rest 

April 26 – Karin at Still in Awe

 April 27 – Donna at Mainely Write 

April 28 – Dave at Leap of Dave 

April 29 – Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge 

April 30 – Michelle at More Art for All

 

I am grateful to hand off the poem to Michelle Kogan for its ending.  Through Poetry Friday and poem swaps in recent years, I've come to appreciate how Michelle's words and art are full of thoughtfulness, compassion, a sense of justice, and pleas for peace.  Take it away, Michelle, and thank you!

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