poetry residency

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I See, I Draw, I Write : 

I See, I Draw, I Write A Five-Day Poetry-Writing Residency Jacqueline Davies Thank you to the third-grade students and teachers of Pine Hill School.

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Day 1: We take our nature journals outside and draw what we see.

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The trick is to draw what we see and not what we think we see.

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We need to look.

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Really look.

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At the smallest thing that crosses our path.

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Day 2: We go outside again and continue to draw.

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We draw new pictures…

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…and add color and words to the page.

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Day 3: We transfer the words from our nature journals to sticky notes: one word per note. The notes become the building blocks for our poems.

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We group the words to create rhyme, alliteration, assonance. We listen to the words with our ears.

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The words seem to leap across the desks…

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…as poems appear.

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Day 4: We continue to create poems using sticky notes.

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When the sticky notes yield a poem we like, we capture it on paper.

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Day 5: Final revisions. Every word matters.

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We take out unnecessary words. Poetry is language distilled.

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We create powerful line breaks. Poetry is language arranged.

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We do our very best work. Poetry is language that matters.

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We cut…

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We glue…

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We arrange…

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…to create our very best work…

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Delicate fairy Unspecial Green wings Unflying Weary weed Unwanted —Rotem

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In the quiet morning light a flower red-orange, yellow, and white small delicate water droplet shining in the sunlight beautiful and mysterious. —Zach

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Jacob’s Ladder Flexible flowers purple as grapes. Hairy leaves soft, furry capes. Petals thin, blue as the sea. What a bright sight to see. —Sven

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Cold inchworm, Gloomy puddle graveyard, The last straw gone. Violent death, peaceful grave. Small puddle, But like an ocean to our inchworm. This death is rare but oh so bitter. The end is all too quick. —Ethan

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Mushroom Hash brown mushroom waits quietly, Rough rock rests in the dark shade. —Aleks

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Silky, white petals that are folded and look molded. Shifting shadows beneath the lemon center. Marching up the stem a line of thorny guardians. —Julien

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Rough mountain roots. An inchworm climbs across the cracked dry desert of bark. Blowing winds knock down little green leaves like kites. —Nicholas

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For more information, contact: jackie@jacquelinedavies.net (781) 455-8334 www.jacquelinedavies.net

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