Two for my students…

For the Second Class who asked me what it would taste like…

A Poem-flavored Popsicle
It tastes a bit
like pomegranate and cloud-light
that soaks up a sunset.

There’s a hint of mint as well
as the fresh green 
of spring

and the 
twittering tickle
of a bird

hiding in the sap
sticky syllables
melting into my smile.

Kimberly M. King, rscj

For the Third Class, studying Poetry

I was waiting

to catch a poem—

Arms bent,

eyes squinched up

(as though that might

help me see it coming);

The pen was clicked

and paper held as a fisher

might ready a net

to land a wiggling bit of life

on the end of his or her line.

I was waiting,

hopeful and eager to brag…

until I felt a tickle

somewhere above

my bare left ankle.

And the words who had landed there

took wing and feather and filled

the now iridescent air around me

with woven strands of song and light.

The poem, it would seem,

caught me instead.

Kimberly M. King, rscj

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