Wednesday, February 7, 2018



I know juncos on the snow
how to raise tomatoes
inky black of crow in oak
but not tides
neither high nor low.

I know finches in the meadow
play house under the willow
the way a prairie wind blows
but not tides
neither high nor low.

No beach or sand or ocean
no shells no crabs no undertow
no waves no gulls that soar
no tides
neither high nor low.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2018

1 comment:

  1. I know these things, too, Mary Lee, but not beaches or sun or sand.

    I'm really intrigued by the design of this poem and want to try one myself -- the repetition of the "I know...but not..." is terrific, to my ear almost incantatory. I can imagine this as a mentor for students early in the year as a statement of who I am (in the "I am from..." way) and at the end of the year as a reflection on who I am now.

    You write with such specific imagery. I love that.