Sunday, April 19, 2026

I Somewhat Weed-Whacked, but Also Had an Uexpected Vistor, Some House Joy, & Then Dinner on the Water with Brilliant Students

Saturdays and Sundays are meant for rolling with whatever is supposed to come. I had grandiose ideas about grading and planning, which I sort of (okay, I didn't) got to. I walked Karal, weed-whacked the front yard, and spent a few hours with Jamal Cecil, Akbaru's 6 year old kid. He's a sharp one and I had fun giving him books, playing volleyball with him, and sharing a coke. Time is a thief, indeed. 

At night, I took student Kathleen Morris out to dinner with Corrigan Scholar Max Limric. They both edited the Fairfield Mirror and impressed me as students and future change makers. Kathleen one the Digital Humanities Award in English for a project she did in Young Adult Literature. We met at Lil' Pub in Short Beach, where I heard about her job interview in Boston and caught up with Max's post-graduate school plans. 

I loved yesterday's #VerseLove prompt...a Golden Hinge, where you take one line from a poem as your first line, and then trickle the same line down the left hand side. Sticking with my Long Island Sound motif, I went with another Whitman piece. I borrowed twice from his poem: As I Ebb’d with the Ocean of Life. I really liked this style.

 

April Whitticisms

b.r.crandall


Whoever you are, we too lie in drifts at your feet.

you, Maude, Great Whatever, teasing us. We  

are gatherers of light amongst sea rocks.

we pack pens & notebooks, those snack-boxes,

too, teasing clamshells & bay scallops while others

lie in eal-grass capturing Russian Beach warriors

in clouds above (ghosts of whalers etched as first-

drafts from tap-dancing pencil tips along lined-paper).

at our feet, a low tide. To our right, a Sea Wall Cove —

your artistry is gathered through this idea, the Sound of

feet questioning death-waves as the wind picks up.


As I ebb’d with the ocean of life

I found fluidity between you, them, us, we

ebb’d in togetherness, humanity, poetry written 

with coastal possibility of a Connecticut story.

the waves whispering wary death for the living. the

ocean, a scrapbook of who we once were…

of who we are right now…sandpipers bringing

life to another shore of American beach grass.


I Somewhat Weed-Whacked, but Also Had an Uexpected Vistor, Some House Joy, & Then Dinner on the Water with Brilliant Students

Saturdays and Sundays are meant for rolling with whatever is supposed to come. I had grandiose ideas about grading and planning, which I sor...