Friday, March 20, 2015

forward...hatCH!


It's Poetry Friday, and here in Bethesda, we are having a wintry start to spring with 1-3" inches of snow predicted...but the new season is hatCHing out no matter what (so say I!).  This is my day to pull something out of the files for the Forward...MarCH CHallenge, and I surprised myself by remembering this one that has not seen light of day in 15 years.  It's a teacher poem rather than a kid poem, but here goes:

For the Hatching of the Heart

Today the 4’s made scrambled eggs.
Each took a turn to crack a shell,
and each one of the group of twelve
did it just the same:

grasped the egg
in one hot hand, not gingerly,
but with a grip that would have
crushed it,
smearing egg and bits of shell
all over palms and shirts,
had the teacher not explained
how to hold it carefully
between the fingertips;

raised that hand
to whack the egg against the bowl
with force that would have
shattered it,
spraying egg and bits of shell
all over cheeks and hair,
had the teacher not explained
how to tap assertively
but gently on the rim;

laid both thumbs
against the break, preparing to release
it with a squeeze that would have
smashed it,
dripping egg and bits of shell
all over shoes and floor,
had the teacher not explained
how to pry the jagged halves
apart with one swift pull.

When all the eggs were in the bowl,
the tricky part was done.
Not one of a dozen children
had trouble with the whisk,
with beating all twelve eggs into
one deep yellow froth.

Today the 4’s ate scrambled eggs,
and every one insisted:
they liked the crunchy bits the best.

Heidi Mordhorst 2000
all rights reserved

And I can't let this post go by without mentioning my very favorite Valentine's Day story and possibly my favorite Eileen Spinelli work, Somebody Loves You, Mr. Hatch.  If you don't know this book, run right out and get a copy today. And look what I found!


Let's see what's hatCHing out of you today!  It should be a busy day over at Reading to the Core with Catherine.  See you there!

**********************************

Oh, we have some great work popping out here!

First, Charles writes small but perfectly formed:


HAPPY BORN DAY
Baby chicks hatch out
Of oval cocoon to shimmy
In sunshine’s happiness.

(c) Charles Waters 2015 all rights reserved.

Nest I mean next, from Diane a whole sensory adventure in 13 lines:

Through the Bathroom Window

The nest appeared
seemingly overnight.
The number of eggs
was never determined.
Before we knew it
the chicks had hatched,
fledged, and left us.
Two weeks--fourteen
days was all it took 
for them to fly away.
Barely long enough
to learn how to focus
our eyes and ears.

Mary Lee's is an ode to what mothers give up to propagate the species:

SACRIFICE

How does
the buzzing
hummingbird
sit still enough to hatch

the two
(not three)
(size of a pea)
eggs that are in her batch?


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

Donna gives clues that she may once have been a poultry owner.  I love the way the queen's train becomes a scurrying column of chicks!

Rhode Island Queen

Dipping her head to the ground
the old queen nods 
to her subjects
this way 
and that
her long train
flowing behind
undulating 
over the ground -
my old red hen
whom I thought was lost
has returned again
from sitting
on a hidden nest
waiting
feeling
for just the right moment
for them to
hatch;
as she nears
her
undulating train
becomes a scurrying 
fuzzy, feather quilt of chicks
blanketing her bare
toes.

©Donna JT Smith, 2015

Kate's extended metaphor is just "write" for those of us who are brooding this month, trying to hatch a new poem every day:

Hatching

The breaking out,
bit by bit.
Sharp-clawed toe,
beak and head.
The newest new,
wet wonder of it.
And when it’s through,
body still unsteady,
can’t walk yet,
not quite ready.
Page is quiet,
words there shiver.
New ideas
all aquiver.
Not yet able, can’t quite roam.
Still a baby,
new-hatched poem.

—Kate Coombs, 2015

Joy stops in with an ostriCH egg:

HATCHING

Said the baby bird
to the ostrich egg
"Let me out.
Please, I beg."

A crack with my beak
it starts to catch.
My special tooth
helps me hatch.
 
--Joy Acey


Jone shares what feels like a blessing, inviting the newly hatching season:

let spring hatch
let songbirds arrive
and wake us
by their song
let tulips bloom and frogs croak
love songs for us all.

© 2015 Jone Rush MacCulloch 

all rights reserved  

And Matt stops by with a haiku on birdly intellect:

Albumen-soaked
hatchling, too young
to wonder
 

--Matt Forrest Esenwine

And Carol triples her bird-count with this piece, which I have taken the liberty of titling:


A Golden Plan
It's time to hatch a golden plan,
not with silly green eggs and ham.
Try poetry and photos - Shazam! -
an artistic venture of grand purport
to stretch imaginations and transport
minds to wander, recalling winter bliss
while not thinking of wind's bitter kiss.
Indeed!
Winter entered with quite a roar, held court,
and listened intently to many a loud retort. 
Now, it transitions to yet another spring.
When will I hear the sweet robin sing?

--Carol Varsalona   

  Looking forward to more!  Feel free to join the egg toss today!


16 comments:

  1. Brave teacher! I like your poem and your patience. I've never read Mr. Hatch, I'll have to look for it.

    Here's a little poem in exchange for the gruesome one I sent you earlier.

    Through the Bathroom Window

    The nest appeared
    seemingly overnight.
    The number of eggs
    was never determined.
    Before we knew it
    the chicks had hatched,
    fledged, and left us.
    Two weeks--fourteen
    days was all it took
    for them to fly away.
    Barely long enough
    to learn how to focus
    our eyes and ears.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sorry to hear about the snow. I saw my first blooming crocuses day before yesterday -- keep the hope, yours are waiting under the drifts!

    I love how you crack open (ha) this small moment.

    I've got hummingbirds today:

    SACRIFICE

    How does
    the buzzing
    hummingbird
    sit still enough to hatch

    the two
    (not three)
    (size of a pea)
    eggs that are in her batch?


    ©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

    ReplyDelete
  3. Loved your poem! The ending was perfect!
    And here's a bit of a memory poem about hatch...

    Rhode Island Queen

    Dipping her head to the ground
    the old queen nods
    to her subjects
    this way
    and that
    her long train
    flowing behind
    undulating
    over the ground -
    my old red hen
    whom I thought was lost
    has returned again
    from sitting
    on a hidden nest
    waiting
    feeling
    for just the right moment
    for them to
    hatch;
    as she nears
    her
    undulating train
    becomes a scurrying
    fuzzy, feather quilt of chicks
    blanketing her bare
    toes.

    ©Donna JT Smith, 2015

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And my short Haiku about how much I like the whites of eggs:

      Down the Hatch

      Chewing egg whites - yuck!
      Tiny flavorless bits that
      won’t go down the hatch.

      Delete
  4. Hatching

    The breaking out,
    bit by bit.
    Sharp-clawed toe,
    beak and head.
    The newest new,
    wet wonder of it.
    And when it’s through,
    body still unsteady,
    can’t walk yet,
    not quite ready.
    Page is quiet,
    words there shiver.
    New ideas
    all aquiver.
    Not yet able, can’t quite roam.
    Still a baby,
    new-hatched poem.

    —Kate Coombs, 2015

    ReplyDelete
  5. Sorry, contributors--I made a change to format that wrecked your line breaks and I don't have time to make it go back. I'll fix it after school. : (

    ReplyDelete
  6. HATCHING

    Said the baby bird
    to the ostrich egg
    "Let me out.
    Please, I beg."

    A crack with my beak
    it starts to catch.
    My special tooth
    helps me hatch.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Love your hatching poem, Heidi (and Somebody Loves You Mr. Hatch was a favorite of my son's and one of the books that made me want to write for kids!)

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wonderful poems hatching here today. I also took some time to listen to Mr. Hatch, a new story for me. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Here's mine:
    let spring hatch
    let songbirds arrive
    and wake us
    by their song
    let tulips bloom and frogs croak
    love songs for us all.

    © 2015 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved

    ReplyDelete
  10. Some nice poems here, Heidi! Here's mine, a haiku:

    Albumen-soaked
    hatchling, too young
    to wonder

    ReplyDelete
  11. Good morning, Heidi. I was at a conference.When I came home last night I fell asleep and never woke up until this morning. I had the post ready but never posted it. Here it is http://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2015/03/hatching-plan.html.
    I enjoyed all of the Hatch Poems. This is such fun-trying to create a poem from a word.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Love this!! Ok, here's mine:
    Hatch,
    Hatched,
    Gotta hatch,
    Hatching,
    Life, birth, renewal.

    Happy Spring!

    ReplyDelete
  13. The scrambled egg process of the 4 year olds (crunchy bits and all!) and the many poems about birds hatching out are a great juxtaposition. Love this post, Heidi! May spring hatch soon in your neck of the woods. =)

    ReplyDelete
  14. I loved cooking with my students when I had a classroom, and your poem perfectly captures the fun we had. I had older students, though, so I don't remember too many crunchy bits! Thanks for sharing the video. Mr. Hatch is one of my favorites, too!

    ReplyDelete