April is National Poetry Month, and to celebrate, I have been assaulting Miss C with poetry every night. Assault is not the right word. More like, I will read to her after bedtime, but it has to be poems I want to read.
I've found that Mary Oliver keeps her awake because she wants to know more about each owl and river otter.
Billy Collins lulls her into quiet.
John Ashbery puts her to sleep.
It's been a delightful time and I wondered why we haven't ended every evening this way, me reading poems in the hallway with her door cracked for light and listening.
On her own time she's been digging into Shel Silverstein and Alan Katz.
Here is her favorite poem of the month, by Alan Katz. She read it, laughed, and now likes to recite it to others to see if they will laugh too.
Hold the Punch, Please
When the conductor punched
Dad's train ticket,
Dad smiled from ear to ear.
But when I punched
My baby brother,
Dad said no TV all year.
Here is mine, which describes what the world feels like to me after a long winter.
ps---I have the radio on as I type this and the newsperson just said "April is Jazz appreciation month!"
Wait wait wait. There are too many things going on in this month. I think I need another April.
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