During the last week of school F had to read a poem of his choosing to his classmates and their various assembled parents, siblings and hangers-on. With the help of A, (read: A's selection for F) "Fog" by Carl Sandburg was chosen. It is a short poem with much imagery. The students were encouraged to bring props to enhance their presentation. What the hell kind of prop do you bring to enhance a poem about, basically, a cloud? You don't bring a prop, you bring a "special effect" you know a "cloud" - dry ice and hot water. F thought it would be awesome! A got video.
Here is the poem for those who have the sound off, can't hear or prefer text to video.
Fog
by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
You have to admit - my dad skills are pretty impressive, as is the size of my upper body. (Modesty is also a strong suit of mine. Being delusional tends to drag the whole package down a bit.)
2 comments:
You brought FOG to school! That is pretty amazing!
Adorable.
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