Eclipsed By Memories

Twain 6th graders not only traveled back in time for their third week of poetry, they also welcomed the solar eclipse. All the students, teachers, and staff at Twain stood in the playground and used special glasses to view the eclipse this past Monday. Although we only saw the partial eclipse, it was truly memorable, seeing everyone laughing and gazing up at the sky. During our poetry session, we discussed ways to use our five senses (touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight) to recall memories. This week’s theme about memories was inspired by the lesson from poetry resident Caroline Stevens.

Together we read the poem “When I Was Six,” by Aimee Nezhukumatahil. In her poem Nezukumatahil uses sensory details to describe how earliest memories from when she was six years old. My mother waters the tomato & pepper plants/I steal drinks from the penny-taste of the garden hose/ I am six and I am laughing with a mouth full of cashews/ I think nuts is the funniest word I have ever heard. Students enjoyed the poem and remembered some silly and embarrassing, things they did when they were younger.

Inspired by Aimee Nezuhkumatahil, 6th graders wrote poems about how they saw the world and themselves when they were younger.

Mr. Barr’s 6th Grade
Group 1

When I Was 4 Years Old
By Veronica H.

When I was 4 years old, I didn’t need
to worry about anything.
Having shoes, I didn’t need to tie.
My grandma making me soup any time
I was sick.
Me and my siblings watching TV together.
the strong smell of my mom’s perfume.
When I could nap at any time of the day.
Selling lemonade with my brother on
a hot summer day.

I miss when I was 4 years old.

By Alejandra N.

I am 6, at a market called, La Casa de Pueblo.
It is currently summer I suppose.
It’s a sunny day and my sister and I
have an idea.
Once we’re leaving my sister and I run,
but ran faster than usual.
A navy car almost ran us over,
thought it was the end.
But we made it over before disaster.
All we got from my mom was a lecture.

Mr. Barr’s 6th Grade
Group 2

By Raul A.

When I was 7 I would grab the hard shells
of the Rolly Pollies and putting them in
an old shoe box to make a school of them.

Going to the stores and hurting my tooth
and staining my mouth, blue and green
from the Jolly Ranchers.

Going to get gas for the car an inhaling
the scent of gas and going home and
sniffing sharpies.

The mornings hearing birds chirp and at nights
and at night not sleeping because of the crickets,
and spending the day watching Ninjago.

When I Was Five
By Sarahi C.

Rough grass touches my bare feet,
playing outside with my brother in
the nice summer.
A cold vanilla ice cream dripping
down my hand.
I smell the soup my mom’s
The birds singing happily.
The sun goes down and we lay in the grass.

When I Was 4
By Adrian G.

Waking up looking at my mom making scramble eggs
and trying to watch Barney but can’t turn on the TV
with my tiny hands,
I saw my scramble eggs get done
and munched that up.
I always liked playing with little dogs
and communicating with my stuffed animals,
which were Spiderman and a dinosaur.
I was full of talk and my mom thought
I was silly.

Mr. Barr’s 6th Grade
Group 3

When I Was 7
By Julian O.

When I was 7, I played outside and was falling
on the grass looking at the beautiful sky
that looked like the one from Toy Story.
When I was 7, trying Frosted Flakes
with Starry Berries for the first time.
Some days sleeping over my grandma’s
house, petting their dogs and smelling
fresh pancakes in the morning.
When I was 7, I heard the sound
of cars beeping.

When I 10
By Ariana S.

Ma is cooking the chicken and getting the ingredients
ready by putting maize and other ingredients.
I’m listening to Crybaby on my CD player
while playing with my cat.
She’s only a few months old
and a Russian Blue cat.
As Ma finished the food, I can smell
the Bath & Body Works candles
all the way from the kitchen.
After dinner, I get a graphic novel
and get in bed to read.
Then Ma gives me a kiss on the cheek,
and I still smell the candles.

When I 7
By Myilo W.

The touch of the cold monkey bars at the park.
Playing with friends.
The taste of purple snowflakes.
The mix of blue and red.
Smelling the small white flowers I picked.
Hearing the ice cream truck coming my way,
watching my friends run up to it.
When I was 7, I heard the sound
of cars beeping.



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.