Graveyard End-of-Year Musings, Part II

In Part I, I wrote a little missive to my 8th graders.  For part II, I think I will try and compose a poem from some things I wrote during the time I was with your class.   Do you guys know I did that THREE times, and I never once got bored?  There was always something new to see, feel, experience, or think about.  You should totally go back during the summer to find more writing inspiration.

I also have some cool stuff from The Flying Pig Farm, though... hmmm... what to do? Actually, I really like some of the stuff I wrote while watching you guys work at the farm.  This one is about you.  Sort of.  Or maybe it's actually about me, though, and what I remember from middle school. It's just an honest poem, I guess.  You may see yourselves in it.  Yes, I write about you.  You are the source of some of my richest material.  You are my inspiration.  Thank you so much for giving me this poem.  Anyway, here it is.  It doesn't have a title yet.  If you think of one, you could leave it in the comments.
______________

Girls carry sticks from where they are
unwanted.  The sticks, not the girls.
Although the girls, too, perhaps feel
unwanted, at least sometimes (don't we all?),
like sticks that should be making a path,
like that weed we learned about on our walk.

Boys take out their uncertainties
with shovels, shake the dirt triumphantly
from roots, put what is unwanted into
buckets. A wagon catches
on a corner, and it takes time (and
someone to notice and help) to turn it around.

They want to share their discoveries —
the sound of bees,
the pinecone encrusted with roots,
the bleached chicken bone —
with me.
I tell them to go tell the paper.
It's all about the telling.
There are things to be told, about being unwanted, shaken, stuck.
Sometimes you need a shovel.
Sometimes you need a pen.
___________

Ok, well, now for some fun...  Here are the photos from our graveyard trip.  And my list poem.

There are so many names here I know:

White

Whitt

Marquart

Hendricks

Larsen

Morgan

Allen

Olive

Quinn

Adele

So many more I don't:

Ravenstein

Wilde

Womeldorf

Shouse

Wiggins

Eason

one I can't read because I scribbled it in the margin.  It looks like

Heltemer

but I know that's not right.

And then the ones I wish I had known:

Tiara

Mae

Cassasa

Pamela June

Buck & Elsa

Pearl

Burkepile

Ogilbee

Fortuna

I hope some of you keep writing over the summer!  And that you keep your journals for a few years, and take them out and read them when you're 40.  You can also continue to publish here.  I'll check the blog every week or so to see if there is anything new!
You all have a story to tell.  Even if that story is about Taco Bell!  haha!!
Love you all so much -- Happy summer, everyone !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS> I finally wrote Part III