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Poetry Prompt: Consider the Pumpkin Vine

By Callie Feyen 7 Comments

Going away to college is not the same as living through a pandemic, but in these days that are filled with no small feelings, with hefty, complicated topics and tempers so high it seems the world is one giant eggshell, I’ve been thinking a lot about my freshman year as a college student.

I was sad those first several months at school. I called home crying a lot. I visited home — and left crying — a lot. It is a testament to my parents that they never said, “Maybe college isn’t for you,” because if they had, I know I would have quit. I know it was hard for them to witness how miserable I was, and now, being a parent myself, I am all too familiar with the desire to fix a problem for my children.

Somehow — thanks to a kind and hilarious therapist, a handful of equally kind and hilarious friends, and a combination of perseverance, faith, and exhaustion — I stuck it out. And while it took me a tad longer, I eventually graduated from college.

The college memory I keep returning to during these days of the pandemic happened on a spring morning moments after I woke up. I tossed off my covers, climbed down the ladder of my loft, looked around my dorm room, and made the most basic and also joyful observation about myself: I am not all sad.

It is this thought that I’m turning over as we enter our fourth season of pandemic living: I am sad, but I am not all sad.

Actually, it was a poem about the importance of the pumpkin vine that stirred this memory. “The Hustling Pumpkin Vine” by Uncle Mose is catchy and rhythmic. Reciting it, it’s hard not to tap your feet along and smile at its upbeat message: “The weeds may grow around it but the pumpkin vine don’t stop, / it shows it’s there for business an’ it climbs right on top / An’ if it strikes a big stone fence or a ditch that may be wide, / It jes’ lines out ‘n strings the pumpkins on the other side.”

Here is a poem that could be considered trite, but I think it’s about looking at the natural world in order to look within ourselves. We consider what we’re made of so we can better take our place in the world. I think that means having the willingness to attend to sadness and look out for joy. I think it is this grappling that can be the catalyst for change and growth.

These days there are lots of reasons to go (and stay) outside. Take a walk through a pumpkin patch. Sit outdoors at a cafe. Bring your sadness for the world with you, but also look out for joy: in the vines, in the (darn) tenacity of the yellow jackets, in the lullaby of the crickets, bidding farewell to the summer’s warmth, and calling us deeper into autumn, where we must attend carefully — and joyfully — to the dark.

Try It

Take a walk this week and find a lesson about nature that can help you this season. Write a poem that points out the sadness and the joy you are holding onto.

Photo by barnimages.com Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen.

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The Teacher Diaires Front Cover with Lauren WinnerI have been a fan of Callie Feyen’s writing for quite some time but I finished this book in almost one sitting. You do not need to be a teacher to have instant admiration for her honesty, vulnerability, and true dedication to her students. She uses her own personal storytelling as the tool to teach one of the greatest stories of our time creating an instant connection to her students as well as to you the reader. If you have ever been in 8th grade, fallen in love, had a best friend, or loved reading, you will love this book. As the mother of an 8th grader, my other genuine hope is that my son will one day have a teacher as gifted as Callie.

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Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.
Callie Feyen
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Filed Under: Blog, Poems, poetry, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writer's group resources

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About Callie Feyen

Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.

Comments

  1. Rick Maxson says

    October 12, 2020 at 10:23 am

    “Bring your sadness for the world with you, but also look out for joy: in the vines, in the (darn) tenacity of the yellow jackets, in the lullaby of the crickets, bidding farewell to the summer’s warmth, and calling us deeper into autumn, where we must attend carefully — and joyfully — to the dark.”

    Beautiful, Callie!

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      October 13, 2020 at 6:49 pm

      Thank you, Rick. I appreciate that.

      Reply
    • Sandra Heska King says

      October 14, 2020 at 5:44 am

      What he said!

      Reply
  2. Rick Maxson says

    October 12, 2020 at 10:25 am

    Here in the Stone

    So we learn from walking,
    that change is a part of life.

    The grasses along the curb,
    Sycamore trees ragged as a rip
    in the sky, push off winter’s
    curse like a fairy tale;

    the small flowers
    with their band of foliole,
    make their way through
    the grey remains of autumn,
    and the still moist green blades
    push from some soft pith
    like veins in the fissured stone.

    The clouds gather
    before the rain falls,
    the river rises.

    Someone tells you how
    this happens,
    but when a rainbow
    arches before you,
    always in the distance,
    you forget in the pursuit.

    I pondered it like a puzzle
    when I was a child

    until the mystery faded,
    its colors shattered
    and fell to earth.

    I wonder how dying fits
    after the struggle
    to make living matter.
    This morning I don’t care why.

    The garden is shining
    after the rain.

    I don’t know why
    I’m telling you this,

    I write to follow where it goes.

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      October 13, 2020 at 6:50 pm

      “I write to follow where it goes.” Me, too. Thanks for sharing this poem. I love it.

      Reply
  3. Megan Willome says

    October 12, 2020 at 11:36 am

    Butterfly Season

    The butterflies are back
    (no, not the monarchs
    that’s next week)

    This week it’s the snout-nosed butterfly
    the symbol of life
    the color of dirt

    August drought
    then September rain
    means they swarm

    this warm afternoon
    thronging north
    two blocks hence

    to Hackberry Street
    not properly migrating
    just messing around

    In my car I dodge their kamikaze
    swerve toward my windshield
    Others cling to a healthy branch

    pulling it down like dead leaves
    playing possum with my heart.
    I walk until I find a hackberry

    tree, defoliated by butterflies.
    The tree will recover
    Just not this year

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      October 13, 2020 at 6:51 pm

      “not properly migrating/just messing around” – Oh, how I love that phrase, Megan.

      Reply

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