We read the poem below and then used the structure to help us write our own poems based on “Spring”. We copied them up using our neatest handwriting.
Looking at the late-night taxis crawl like black beetles down king street,
Looking at the street lights’ broken reflection on the rainy pavements,
Looking at the boarded up shop windows, the empty bus shelters, the queue from the chip shop winding out into the road, houses sitting in neat rows.
Tasting the salt of bacon from the grill,
Tasting the crunch of sugar that sits in a thick layer on a lardy cake,
Tasting the tang of lemon squeezed on pancakes,
Tasting too much vinegar, drowning the chips!
Smelling the sweet taste of an illicit apple,
Smelling the cut grass on a hot summer’s day,
Smelling the petrol, making rainbow patterns in a puddle,
Smelling the blocked drains in number forty-two…
Touching the knotted fur on my dog Sandy,
Touching the sudden cold of my gran’s frail hand,
Touching the icy railings on a winter morning…
Listening to the television mumbling below my room at night,
Listening to the sharp screech of breaks as a car halts,
Listening to my brother’s breathing in the dark as he sleeps,
Listening to my own memories rattling in my mind.