Poem-A-Day: On not accepting The Way It is

One activity we do frequently in my ELA class is "talk back" to texts. That might take the form of disagreeing or simply adding to the discussion started by a work we are reading. Right after the Marjory Stoneman Douglas shooting, we read The Way It Is  by William Stafford, and I asked students to write about what their thread is. I found myself unable to compose an answer of my own, though. I dwelled on it until writing group that afternoon, when I finally found the voice to write a response. This poem is what I wrote.

More so than a thread, Mr. Stafford,

there is a trail I follow.

It goes among things that stay the same. But it doesn't stay.

People wonder what I am looking for.

I don't know how to explain about the trail. It is

made up of questions, like breadcrumbs. I think

that others might see the trail too. But

most choose not to look, or to direct their gaze upward to the benign sky.

While I'm following the trail, I never

feel lost. In spite of the dark woods around me,

and the rocks and dirt that smudge my feet;

I choose. I look for the questions, and I choose

to face the reality on the ground. I cannot rely

on the featureless sky to rain down answers like manna.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt 

or die; and I am getting old.

Staring at the sky doesn't make time slow down

and it doesn't give you answers either. I'll keep

to the trail. I'll follow my questions.