Hey,
I’m Annie. I love falling water, trees that smell like pine needles, sparkly night skies, and flowers that smell like roses. I have many different professions, all of which are categorized under the heading “teacher”. If you asked me what my favorite color is…I would tell you every shade of pink except the one you thought of when I said pink. I get around in a speedy little red truck. I have a dog. And a cat. I live in a green valley between blue mountains with a deep river running through it. A very cold deep river. I have friends and a family. I live in a house and I eat food. This is the prose of my life.
“as long as I live I’ll hear waterfalls, and birds, and winds sing”
-john muir
The poetry begins when I stand in the mist of a waterfall. When I’m silent under the stars or breathe the scent of June roses, those moments are poetry.
Mixing paint colors and discovering the shade of pink I wanted is poetry. One of my students bringing me a bruised knee or a splinter and being able to wipe away their tears and see a smile on their face is poetry. Poetry is my little red truck beside a campfire with a sleeping bag in the back. Poetry is my naughty little dog following me across the highway because she wanted to come along for the adventure.
The smoky purple of the mountains and the shades of green in the valley along the deep blue of the river escapes my notice because my eyes are accustomed to the beauty. And then a friend from the flatlands comes and seeing it for the first time through her eyes was poetry.
My family is a safe place and a joy and sometimes one of the biggest frustrations in life. We all understand the balance of being a family, learning and having adventures…and exactly how far to push a button before a nerve snaps. The poetry is that we’re doing it together, because we are a family.
Friends…friends are always poetry. They are such a beautiful, sweet part of the poem. The lines where the greatest dreams are spun and the best laughs take place. They are the crazy part when bad ideas turn into the best stories and most wonderful memories.
Holding a flower. Any flower. Is poetry.
Poetry and Prose….this is my life.
Poetry&Prose 