Sometimes budding genius can be a little hard to recognize. The parent of one of my favorite young family members (the person in question is in first grade) received a call from the school expressing concern over this poem which was written in response to a writing prompt about Fall.
(Oh, does the term "writing prompt" bother anyone else? What the fuck is a "writing prompt"?? Sounds like someone standing behind me with a sharp stick, ready to jab if my fingers slow down on the keyboard. Which might not be a bad thing and all...but it deeply disturbs me that my kids knew the term "writing prompt" practically before they could hold a pencil. Whatever happened to "write a poem" or "write a story"...our school system's writing program seems designed to discourage as many kids as possible from writing - and reading, for that matter. But maybe I'm just bitter because my kids routinely score 1's and 2's out of 5 for their "response to literature," another term I abhor. Um, how about "did you like the book, kids? why?" Oh, but I digress.)
- - - -
Fall the season of death
Oh! Those acorns and leaves falling on your head
Maple trees and others chopped down on your head.
The season of death.
- - - -
Oh, I read this with glee! Another member of the clan carries the tainted blood, it seems...the boy's dad went on to explain that the drawing accompanying the poem had a person with x'd-out eyes under a falling tree that had just been chewed down by a beaver. And I, reading too quickly, thought it said that the person's eyes "had been chewed out by a beaver." Which would have been sooooo cool and all, but the kid *is* only six - give him time, my friends, give him time....