Dyslexia Awareness Month












Note to the Teacher

Dear Miss Sinclair,
I’m sorry
I made that loud farting noise
after you’d told me
to stop
three times already.
I’m sorry
I fell out of my chair
and everyone laughed
so hard
that Louis and Elijah
fell out of their chairs too.
I’m sorry
everyone stopped listening
to you
explain about our new
spelling words.
It’s just that I suck
at spelling
and I don’t understand why
an O makes
so many sounds.


This summer we realized that one of our kids has dyslexia. We just couldn’t understand why our bright boy was so stressed about school. Now we know. We didn’t realize he has dyslexia because he reads. That’s one of many common myths about dyslexia. Once we heard the news I started studying. I quickly realized our son had many common signs of dyslexia–shockingly poor spelling, a terrible time with handwriting, writing far below his abilities, and low self-esteem. If I’d known a little more, I could have saved our boy from years of feeling badly about himself. So today I want to share this poem, and I want to share this link to a list of a wide variety of symptoms. Please take a look. It’s worth knowing the signs.

For more Poetry Friday, visit Cathy at Merely Day by Day.

Collecting Rocks















Collecting Rocks


One rock—plop.
Two rocks—plop.

I pick them up.
I let them drop.

More and more.
I can’t stop!

I fill my bucket
to the top.


© Elizabeth Steinglass, 2014, all rights reserved

Christmas Cookie Haiku













eating the tree
before decorating it—
holiday traditions


sweet greenery—
wreaths welcome
to the tongue


decorated reindeer—
Rudolph’s nose
goes first


missing jackets—
gingerbread kids


never meant for the tree
iced baubles


These haiku were inspired by Robyn Hood Black’s wonderful haiku series, “We Haiku Here,” and Laura’s delicious post at Author Amok last Friday in honor of National Cookie Day!

For more Poetry Friday, visit Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference.

Happy Holidays!

© Elizabeth Steinglass, 2013, all rights reserved.

My Pumpkin













I saw this pumpkin at the grocery store and I had to have it. It called to me. So I bought it and brought it home and stood it on the stoop. I heard myself think, “But I don’t want to carve it. I like it like this.” Then I heard myself think, “There’s a poem there.”

Here it is:


My Pumpkin

I don’t want to carve my pumpkin.
I don’t want to give it a grin.

I like my pumpkin like it is.
I like its smooth orange skin.

I like that it’s a little tall.
I like its hollow thump.

I like its tiny tree-trunk stem.
I like its warty bump.

Of all the pumpkins in the pile,
this one said “Pick me!”

I don’t want to carve my pumpkin.
I want to let it be.


I’m still thinking about the last line. Do kids say “Let it be?” Do they know what it means?

For more Poetry Friday, visit Amy at The Poem Farm.


(c) 2013, Elizabeth Steinglass, all rights reserved


Betsy at Teaching Young Writers has us celebrating poetry and sidewalk chalk at the end of every month. My daughter and I decided to join the fun this last Saturday of August. Here’s my daughter’s poem:









Chalk decorations
covering the sidewalk
with colorful dreams

Here’s mine:










What gets you to stop and look?
A red light?
A starry night?
A poem left on the sidewalk?

But here’s my favorite thing about putting my poem on the sidewalk. When my youngest son read it, he said, “Everything.”

Happy Saturday. Happy Chalk-a-bration.
For more visit Betsy at Teaching Young Writers.

(c) Elizabeth Steinglass, 2013, all rights reserved.