Happy Poetry Friday! I share a draft of an original poem at the end of this post, along with the link to this week's Poetry Friday roundup. But first, I'm going to wrap up our series on the topic of Endings.
I originally suggested this topic to the TeachingAuthors team for three main reasons:
- I was inspired to think about Endings after reading the book The End written by John Bray and illustrated by Josh Cleland (Starry Forest Books, 2022).
- In the past, the TeachingAuthors have discussed Beginnings and Middles, but we'd never done a series on Endings before.
- I was hoping that reading my fellow TeachingAuthors' posts would help me find a satisfying ending for a humorous picture book I've been struggling to finish for years.
The last reason may seem a bit selfish, but from the comments this series has received, I can see I'm not the only one who struggles with endings. In fact, in the first post in this series, April discussed her problem finding an ending for her poem "How to End ..." . When she turned to her friend, Bruce Balan, for help, he sent her some suggestions, but said, also: "My real question is, what are you trying to say?"
Rereading that post today, I realized this is THE question I have to answer for my humorous work-in-progress. I've gone through several variations of the story, each with a different theme or throughline. Yet I still don't know what I'm trying to say. Until I can answer that question, I won't be able to discover the satisfying ending I yearn for. Finding the answer to this one question has given me a new sense of direction in how to tackle revising my WIP. Many thanks to April, and the other TeachingAuthors, for all your terrific insights on endings!
This week, I've been tinkering with a poem related to the recent end of summer and the disappearance of the hummingbirds I already miss. It's been only in the last few years that we've found ways to attract hummers to our backyard. I never saw one as a child growing up in Chicago, but they have become frequent summer visitors to our suburban home. The key has been growing hummingbird mint plants, which they seem to love.
I haven't been able to capture a decent photo of a hummingbird in our yard. But I do have a very brief video below that I took in late August. I hope you can make out the ruby-throated hummer drinking from our hummingbird mint blossoms. The video sets the scene for the poem that follows. (If you're an email subscriber and the video isn't available in the email, you can watch it online here.)
The Last Hummingbird
flits from blossom to blossom to blossom,
from salvia to petunia to its namesake mint,
fueling up for its migratory flight.
I can hardly believe this hummer is still here.
We hadn’t seen one for days.
Many more days will have to pass
before I can say this was truly the last.
©2023 draft Carmela A. Martino. All rights reserved.
I'd love to know what you think of this poem. And don't forget to check out this week's Poetry Friday roundup hosted by Matt Forrest Esenwine at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme.
THE END!
Carmela
Posts
21 comments:
Carmela. I love the point you make here - often we don't know something is the last until much later. Thanks for the thoughtfulness of your post, and for making me, too, think about endings. I hope your story sorts itself out :)
Thanks for reminding us that endings aren't always a bad thing. Love your draft, best wishes with it!
Carmela, hummingbird mint -- I didn't know there was such a thing. Where I live, we only see one or two hummingbirds each year, so they are a real treat. I need to look into hummingbird mint!
Thinking about endings makes me think that our work "marinates" quite a long while before it is finished. I recently read a not-very-old blog post by Kirsten Larsen (link below). Her question "What's the point?" - asking writers to consider the "takeaway" helps me with endings. I love your last line, Carmela. It IS the takeaway!
https://kirsten-w-larson.com/2023/05/20/killer-concepts-whats-your-point/?blogid=28851615&blogsub=confirming#subscribe-blog
Your poem reminds me how reluctant we often are to come to the end of something. And how do we know it's really the end? Like a bout of cool weather, then a return to summer humidity. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Sally. I hope my story works out eventually, too.
Thanks, Matt!
Tracey, if you find some hummingbird mint, you can save the dried up blossoms to have seeds for the next year. That's what we did!
Patricia, thanks for sharing the blog post. I'll definitely check it out!
Thanks for stopping by, Rose.
This is such a lovely poem, Carmela. Such a strong metaphor. And I love the video! Thank you!
Thanks, Bobbi. Glad to know you can see the video. I wasn't sure how it would work.
Carmela ~ 1st, I'm going to send Bruce your post! 2nd, that last line in your poem is lovely...and true.
I know you're writing about hummingbirds but the poem says to me how hard it is to say goodbye, to anything or anyone. I enjoyed reading about the struggle with endings and the underlying challenge of "What is the point?" Thanks, Carmela, for all, including the hummer peek!
Love the title "The Last Hummingbird." Wow! I haven't seen my hummingbirds around lately, but I haven't been able to spend as much time outside as I was a few weeks ago.
Yes, April, do share it with Bruce!
Linda B, that's what I was thinking of as I wrote this poem.
Marcie, I definitely miss our hummers!
We didn't have any hummingbirds at our feeder this year. I'm wondering if it is because almost every house in our development has a feeder! I love the message in your poem about not knowing when something is really for the very last time. Beautiful poem!
Thanks, Linda. I hope your lack of hummers is not an indicator of their decline!
Carmela, yes, we can see the hummingbird in your video. How sweet! Yes, you won't know it's the last hummer for a while. I love feeding our hummingbirds, and they are still coming.
Post a Comment