Yesterday, during an extended freewriting time in my four classes of sixth graders, I wrote these small poems, trying to capture the energy and essence of each class period.
Period One
Murmurs in the room
captured voices – planning —
talking slowly — each
demanding attention — sharing
thoughts — go wander in among them;
insights fueling discovery –
they teach each other
ways into the worldPeriod Two
Almost like:
marbles on a wooden floor
a hornet’s nest, disturbed
glitter in a spring wind
confetti from a skyscraper
voices at a riot
eraser marks on paperThis is how the mind works
the longest day of the year
so farPeriod Three
This machine
writes stories —a 20 headed monster
of ideasWe walk in
on forty feet, pencils
gripped against the voidWe voice dissent, but not discontent,
sowing chaos — long thin threads
pulled against the quilt of conflictOnly gathered up together like this
do the strands become woven
into something newer, stronger, better
than beforeOur stories bound
shared, and beautifulPeriod Four
What if
we were all just characters
in a comic strip? one asks
and we wonder — what if
everything we said was in bubbles
above our heads? another pondered —
and we wondered — and what if
we could reach our hands
beyond the wall itself to grab hold
of our future self? another addedand at that, the room went quiet,
an empty frame of thought
Peace (noticing it),
Kevin