It was great fun reading all your posts and comments. I agree that reading books is a requirement in our line of work, even if it doesn't feel like work. Here are a few of my favorites from the summer. I also read a number of short stories, some of which you may have already read in school: The Lottery, Heidegger's Experiment, Yours, The Story of an Hour, and The Tell-Tale Heart. They're worth a re-read if it's been awhile.
I also want to share a poem that knocked my socks off (where did that saying originate, I wonder).
Oranges
by Gary Soto
The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingered
A nickle in my pocket,
And when she lifted a chocolate
That cost a dime,
I didn’t say anything.
I took the nickle from
My pocket, then an orange,
And set them quietly on
The counter. When I looked up,
The lady’s eyes met mine,
And held them, knowing
Very well what it was all
About.
Outside,
A few cars hissing past,
Fog hanging like old
Coats between the trees.
I took my girl’s hand
In mine for two blocks,
Then released it to let
Her unwrap the chocolate.
I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my hands.
Oranges
by Gary Soto
The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingered
A nickle in my pocket,
And when she lifted a chocolate
That cost a dime,
I didn’t say anything.
I took the nickle from
My pocket, then an orange,
And set them quietly on
The counter. When I looked up,
The lady’s eyes met mine,
And held them, knowing
Very well what it was all
About.
Outside,
A few cars hissing past,
Fog hanging like old
Coats between the trees.
I took my girl’s hand
In mine for two blocks,
Then released it to let
Her unwrap the chocolate.
I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my hands.
8 comments:
Diane, we posted today on the same day!
What a gorgeous poem is right-- it beautifully describes an era past- capturing the emotions and the visuals so poignantly. Thank you for posting this.
I'm a day late posting, myself!! Thought I'd warm up with some comments first...
Reading a great poem is always a great way to start the day! Thanks for sharing, Lauren, along with the reminder that rereading classics is never wasted time!
Every time I read that poem I smile. Thanks for letting me share it with you.
The poem makes me smile, too, Diane! Thanks for sharing it and for sharing your recent reading list. Always nice to see a book by one of our own spuds up there. Christy's The East-West House is stunning--both in text and illustrations.
Gorgeous poem.
And I'm happy to see one of my all-time favorite picture books on your list: THE DIRTY COWBOY by Amy Timberlake. It was Adam Rex's first picture book, and he has gone on to great success - and Amy's story is simply hilarious. By all means check this one out!
That's a great poem:)
David,
You should hear Amy read the book with her husband doing deadpan sound effects in the background. I laughed until I cried.
Nice visuals in that poem-love the fire in the hands. Thanks for including me in your summer reads.
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