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Thinking in poems


“WHAT? What’s wrong? Opal rushed in the room where Thomas was studying.

“Mom, this is dumb. Why do I have to write this essay? No one cares about the technical aspects of a plant’s life cycle anyway.”

“Oh really? What about biologists like Aunt Jane? I think she cares.”

“But she already knows all this stuff. I want to write stuff for regular people who look at plants, or maybe animals, or just whatever’s around.”

“What do regular people who look at plants want to read?”

“About the color of the leaves, and if it’s a flower, the petals. About the smell it leaves in the air around it. About the way its roots dig into the Earth.” Read the rest of this entry