February and I have a history. So when we choose this month's challenge to be "....is a word" poems, I knew my word had to be February. And yet---February (as I've complained before) is often brutal, temperamental, and generally unlikeable---which means it's hard to be "in conversation" with it, as our 2025 theme suggests. Luckily, in contrast, "....is a word" poems are full of word play, and clever imagery, and sometimes humor---all things that I love. This form came to life with the great Nikki Grimes, and you can find several of her excellent poems here. Laura Purdie Salas has a complete lesson plan on them, as well as one of the best examples of the form I've ever read: Sheep is a Solid Word. But in short, these poems are free verse, and celebrate one word and all its implications, including the shape of the letters, the sound of the word itself, and any colors, smells, tastes, and other sensory details the word evokes.
Here's where that led me in conversation with the word February:
February is a Fancy Word
February is a fancy word,
longer than it should be for
a month so short.
Perhaps that’s because it has to hold
plumply grumpy groundhogs,
two pretty perfect presidents,
eons of evidence of black history,
and cartoonish contradictory candy hearts—
MAKE ME/YES/WHY NOT?
----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
And then I tried again, with the same opening line:
February is a fancy word
it trips your tongue
for if you try to say that “r”—
that’s just trouble fe-brewing—-
another foot of snow—
or maybe twenty-two?
----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
Then I moved on to some etymology:
February is an Ancient Word
February is an ancient word
in many languages, meaning:
a month of scrubbing,
a month of mud,
a month of cabbage;
but in Finland,
it's named for
icy pearls that
decorate the trees.
How feb-ulous is that?
----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
And finally, I concluded, as I usually do, by complaining about February:
February is a Messy Word
February is a messy word,
the snarl of snotty sneezes
the blackened dregs of dirty snow
the stink of soppy boots
toppled in the doorway
And worse of all—
the sloppy way it gains
and loses days—giving
babies disappearing birthdays
for the rest of their lives---
messy!
----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
What do YOU think of February?
Please read my poetry sisters' less whiney (probably) poems here:
Mary Lee
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Denise Krebs.
