Thursday, March 22, 2012

Mora, Pat. “Words Free As Confetti.” Confetti: Poems for Children. Illustrated by Enrique O. Sanchez. New York: Lee and Low, 1999. (1996)

Come, words, come in your every color.

I’ll toss you in storm or breeze.

I’ll say, say, say you,

Taste you sweet as plump plums,

bitter as old lemons,

I’ll sniff you, words, warm

as almonds or tart as apple-red,

feel you green

and soft as new grass,

lightweight as dandelion plumes,

or thorngray as cactus,

heavy as black cement,

cold blue as icicles,

warm as abuelita’s yellowlap.

I’ll hear you, words, loud as searoar’s

Purple crash, hushed

as gatitos curled in sleep,

as the last goldlullaby.

I’ll see you long and dark as tunnels,

bright as rainbows,

playful as chestnutwind.

I’ll watch you, words, rise and dance and spin.

I’ll say, say, say you

in English,

in Spanish,

I’ll find you.

Hold you.

Toss you.

I’m free too.

I say yo soy libre,

I am free

free, free,

free as confetti

Thursday, March 15, 2012

They Were My People By: Grace Nichols


They Were My People

by Grace Nichols

They were those who cut cane
to the rhythm of the sunbeat

They were those who carried cane
to the rhythm of the sunbeat

They were those who crushed cane
to the rhythm of the sunbeat

They were women weeding, carrying babies
to the rhythm of the sunbeat

They were my people, working so hard
to the rhythm of the sunbeat - - long ago
to the rhythm of the sunbeat.

Questions to think about:
1. Who were "my people"?
2. What is the historical context?
3. Who is Grace Nichols?
4. What is this poem about?