Friday, July 16, 2021

Someone Said Someone Said

Yesterday's Raspberries on Their Bushes
Photo by Amy LV




Students - I am now reading a novel by Beth Duke titled TAPESTRY. These are the opening lines: "Gossip is the most valuable currency in a small town. It's the reason the elderly widow waits in her front yard for the mail carrier. It's why the hardware store clerk quits stocking a shelf and rushes to see his neighbor near the nuts and bolts bin. It causes three women to maneuver themselves around a shampoo bowl and listen while they await their turns at the hair salon."

People talk. We tell each other stories about our histories and our lives. We talk about other people's histories and their lives. We tell the stories we hear and the stories we read about. We like to talk, and we like to listen. This talking and listening is more than gossip - it is stories in our mouths, words in our ears, stories and words that change us.

I have heard about my grandma telling my mom about raspberries smelling like perfume many times, so eventually this thought would end up in a small piece of writing. That piece of writing is here today!

Which words do you remember that someone said?

Which words do you remember that someone said someone said?

Consider making a place in your notebook - or your saving-section-of-your-brain to keep words which feel like good jumping off points for writing. Often a tiny seed grows a huge surprise of an idea.

What was said? What do you think about those words now?

Molly is hosting today's Poetry Friday roundup over at Nix the Comfort Zone with an original poem titled "Summer, Ten Times." If you visit her place today, you will likely want to try out one of your own "Ten Times" poems, and it will be neat to see what you come up with. Remember: all are welcome each Friday as folks share poems, poem books, poetry ideas, and friendship. 

xo,
Amy

Yesterday's Raspberries in My Pot
Photo by Amy LV

13 comments:

  1. I'm sure your Grandma was right, too. Love to you and your ancestors.

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  2. Sweet perfume!

    My dad would always ask “Will it matter in a hundred years?” That became my poem :
    https://wp.me/p2fY1t-1yJ

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  3. Of course you leave some for the birds. And I bet they gossip about your bushes!

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  4. I love how you expressed this idea: "Often a tiny seed grows a huge surprise of an idea." and the beautiful poem that grew from your overheard seed of an idea is lovely. Thanks for sharing this!

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  5. I had to buy raspberries because they don't grow here, but figs do. And yesterday I left some for the bees. So happy to have you back. I am feeling a fig poem coming.

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  6. I often think the taste of something reminds of how something else smells, but I couldn't come up with an example all day! But it will come to me when I least expect it, just like a poem. Thank you, Amy!

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  7. Amy, it is wonderful to see you at Poetry Friday with a new poem and thoughts for students. Family members speak and others listen and so life goes on remembering the wisdom.

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  8. Amy, I love how you captured your grandmother’s words and created a poem and thought of her as you picked raspberries. I surround myself with things that belonged to my family and think of their words daily. Thank you for your poem.

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  9. I love your Grandmother's words and how she visits each summer through raspberries,

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  10. Amy, your raspberry recollections are beautifully captured in your poem. Growing up with a father who grew raspberries quite extensively, my connection to your poem is even stronger. It is always amazing how the words and stories of our loved family members so often find a new life in our writing. Raspberries preserved...

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  11. That's a delicious poem Amy, and I love the passing down and back between your grandmother and mother, thanks!

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  12. It's so nice to "see" you here again, Amy! I love how those words and the link to your mother and grandmother found their way into your poem. I spent an hour or so picking raspberries not too long ago and that (and strawberry picking) wound up as a stanza in my poem today. With all their sensory and generational facets, perhaps berries carry additional poetic weight. A thought to ponder...

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  13. I'm afraid the scorching sun (and hopefully some birds) got most of my black raspberries this year. Love that you have memories connected to your berries, Amy. For me, memories tumble into a pail with blueberries every August. xx

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