A few months ago, we read a couple of poems in our language curriculum that demonstrated personification: "The Old Bridge" by Hilda Conkling and "The Oak" by George Hill. When I asked Elisabeth to write a poem of her own that demonstrated this concept, I didn't expect the depth of her poetic expression.
|Photo credit Ty1eerLeeds on Flickr|
The Cracked Window
As its home grows cold and quiet
The children have left
Their laughter no longer echoes.
Its cracks grow larger
As the wind and rain rage against it.
No more eyes stare through it in wonder,
If only it was the great stained windows of the cathedral
Or the sturdy glass guarding way up in the sky
But its not.
And it will surely shatter.