Winter Smoke: Sensory Poems

Thank goodness for Poetry Friday! I look forward to this day all week long. It is a joy to read all of the poetic posts written by people I admire very much. So whether you are a regular traveler on the Poetry Friday train or you are climbing aboard for the first time, be sure to stop at the round-up station this week where Keri at Keri Recommends is our host!

When I was little, I remember my dad preparing the meat and readying the pump house for making sausage. First, he would grind the meat and put it into casings. Then, he would hang the links of sausage on the poles that hung in the rafters of the pump house. After that it was time to light a small fire underneath to smolder and create the most delicious smell of maple and oak. Some smells you never forget, and this is certainly one I am drawn back to every winter. So I was very excited one evening when I was taking a walk in the woods and got a whiff of that familiar scent in the air. I immediately whispered to myself, "It's sausage making time." From that one line, this poem emerged from deep within a treasured childhood moment with my father.

Invitation to Write:

Writers often rely on their senses when they are reaching into memory as they write. Think about some of your most treasured memories. What are the sights, sounds, and smells that you associate with these memories? Jot down some of these sensory details and see what bubbles up. Now, stretch yourself reach even deeper into the details of this memory and think out loud about what you have to say about this moment. That's right, talk to yourself! Jot down a few lines as you talk your way through this responsive experience. It's sensory writing time!