Here’s a sample of a found poem I made for you. I “lifted these words from Annie Dillard’s Essay “Living Like Weasels” I added ONE word in the poem below. All the other words are Dillard’s, but they are rearranged to create my own images and ideas.
The Mind is Single
It’s down to a choice:
yield or
live to dangle from the most tender necessity.
I should have held on
to explore the wild moment,
to take the particular sense
and blow it to the evening.
Last week, I knew, and then it caught my eye:
a yellow sunset of intimate airborn air
alternating and bending,
in the beautiful bottomland of field and grasses.
I remember watching, pleading, and thrusting my spirit-spray skyward
stunned-still and emptied and shattered,
sweet thoughts tangled in wild roots and rose.
My brain is a fierce, private place. I hold it aloft, precisely, to the wind.
I blink. I breathe. Who knows?
Post your "found" poems here in the comment box. I look forward to reading these and sharing the best ones in class.