Tag Archives: Carl Sandburg

On Year 5: December’s Poems


  Winter, to quote Eddard Stark, is coming. There are so many poems about cold and snow and ice.  Perhaps it’s simply the hunkering down we have to do in the storm that makes poets write that storm down.  Imagine them, if you will, huddled next to the wood fire, blowing on cold hands before …

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On Year 4: January’s Poems


Happy New Year! It’s cold.  Really cold.  Polar vortexes taking over and everything.  Pipes freezing.  Cars not starting.  Wind chills in the -30s.  And two and a half months until spring.  It’s hard to read, let alone write.  Still, there are cold poems out there for the harvesting, and I’ve been delivering them to the …

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On Year 3: April’s Poems


April is the cruelest month, and the coolest.  April is, of course, celebrated as National Poetry Month.  In April, just like Chaucer’s pilgrims, I always feel restless when the snow recedes and the flowers begin teasing, when the birds come back, when the mud oozes forth.    In the poetic realm, I am not, by …

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On Year 3: March’s Poems


March is the most difficult month in school:  everyone is exhausted.  Perhaps it’s because it’s winter’s last hurrah?  However, it’s also, fortunately, the month when spring fights its way in, so there’s something to look forward to.  Ah, and the advent of Daylight Savings Time, when it is lighter later in the afternoon.  My list …

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On Year 3: February’s Poems


This month I was ambivalent.  I wanted to read poems about love, after a fashion, because of Valentine’s Day.  But this February was also full of winter, full of snow, and so many snow poems presented themselves.  Thus, I waffled back and forth.  Top this all off with a healthy dose of restlessness, and there …

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On Year 3: October’s Poems


What an odd month!  It started out as Octoberish as they come, but ended with a hurricane that brought the temperatures up into the unseasonable 60’s–along with enough rain to flood the cellar, and the C wing in our school building.  Here it is, Halloween, and I am surrounded by high-school-aged ghouls…and in addition to …

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On Year 3: September’s Poems


Not to mention two in August! Back to school, and back to a poem a day to my classes.  How many times does one have to do something before it becomes a habit?  This will be the third year for me–the third year since I took this one simple idea away from the Frost Place …

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On the Second May’s (and a Tiny Bit of June’s) Poems


My friend the poet Michael Macklin died this month.  I had read a poem of his to the students one Monday, and over the following weekend, Michael took a group of his students to Bread Loaf, where he passed away in his sleep.  To everyone in the Maine poetry community–and beyond–this was a profound shock.  …

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On the Second April’s Poems


April is a month of contradictions.  Which, of course, might be the reason why I was born in it.  It’s an ornery month, reflecting my personality running up to school’s April break more than a bit accurately. Still, April, of course, is National Poetry Month.  So that’s all the more reason to read poems to …

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On the Second December’s Poems


This has been a distinctly odd month, weather-wise:  warm when it should have been cold, rain when there should have been snow.  As always, we plug along to the death of the old year, the days growing shorter, the darkness stretching.  This month, though, some of the boys have been asking for poems with hunting, …

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