said.
"It's by a Japanese person, stupid!" called Malcolm.
"I bet Daisuke wrote it, right?" said Ben. "He's Japanese."
Mrs. Pidgeon wrinkled her forehead. "Who is Daisuke?" she asked.
All of the boys began to laugh. Mrs. Pidgeon was not a sports fan, and Daisuke was a famous baseball player. Nicholas explained that to her.
"Oh," she said. "Thank you. I didn't know that. And maybe Daisuke does write poems while he's sitting in the—what is that place called? The birchbark? "
"The dugout! " the boys all yelled.
Mrs. Pidgeon laughed. "I knew that. I was just teasing. But no, this haiku isn't by Daisuke. In fact, it isn't by a Japanese person. The Japanese invented haiku, that's true; but anyone is allowed to use the form. And the author of this haiku is actually our room mother."
The children were silent for a moment. "But our room mother is your mother!" Chelsea said at last.
"That's true."
"She's Mrs. X!" said Beanie.
Mrs. Pidgeon laughed. "Well, that's what we all called her for a while when she was being mysterious and didn't want us to guess who she was."
"I remember when she came from the nursing home and brought us cupcakes," Tricia said. "She's very, very old."
"That's true," Mrs. Pidgeon said. "My mother is very, very old. And she's not very well at the moment, so I've been spending a lot of time at the nursing home with her. I opened up an old trunk filled with things from her past, and I found all these poems that she had written. I sit by her bed and read them to her. She likes that. Yesterday, when I read this haiku, I decided it would be a good one for our morning poem."
"Mrs. Pidgeon! I have a poem! I just made it up!" Malcolm called.
The teacher sighed. "All right, Malcolm," she said.
Malcolm stood. He said in a loud voice:
HAIKU!
KUNG FU!
He made his hands into fists, struck a pose, and kicked one leg into the air.
When all of the boys began to arrange themselves in martial-arts poses, Mrs. Pidgeon quickly went to the piano and played a few soft chords. It was her best method for calming down the entire class. It always worked.
When they were quiet and calm, she said, "I'm just going to describe the rules of haiku to you quickly, and then we must go on to our math."
She wrote her mother's poem on the board:
Over the pavement
Snow falls in January—
Soap flakes wash our tracks
They all read it aloud together.
"Okay," said Mrs. Pidgeon. "Three lines. Five syllables in the first line."
They read the first line slowly so that they could hear the syllables. Five.
"Next line: seven," said Mrs. Pidgeon.
They read the second line and could hear that it was true. Seven syllables.
"Finally, five again, in the third line," she told them, and they read it aloud.
"Usually, a haiku is about one of the seasons," she explained. "This one, of course, is about winter. It describes snow, in January. What other seasons do we have?"
"Thummer!" said Felicia Ann. "Thpring!"
"Correct. And fall, or autumn. So there we have the basic rules of haiku. Later today we'll have time to give writing haiku a try. But right now"—she looked at the clock—"we really must get to our math problems."
Then Mrs. Pidgeon noticed that Gooney Bird Greene, who had been very quiet, had her hand raised. "Yes, Gooney Bird?"
"I wrote one," Gooney Bird said. "I know I should have been facing forward, hands folded, eyes on you, when you were talking. But I couldn't help myself. Sometimes you just can't help yourself." She held up a lined paper with some writing on it.
"I know. That's true sometimes. All right, Gooney Bird, why don't you read it to the class? Then: math."
Gooney Bird stood. Frowning, she adjusted the damp knees of her tights. Then she read, from her paper:
Haiku
by Gooney Bird Greene
Winter walk to school
Stiletto boots, icy street—
Toes and knees suffer
3.
After the next morning's intercom announcements were over, Mrs. Pidgeon went to the front of the class with a paper in her hand.
"Is your mother
"It's by a Japanese person, stupid!" called Malcolm.
"I bet Daisuke wrote it, right?" said Ben. "He's Japanese."
Mrs. Pidgeon wrinkled her forehead. "Who is Daisuke?" she asked.
All of the boys began to laugh. Mrs. Pidgeon was not a sports fan, and Daisuke was a famous baseball player. Nicholas explained that to her.
"Oh," she said. "Thank you. I didn't know that. And maybe Daisuke does write poems while he's sitting in the—what is that place called? The birchbark? "
"The dugout! " the boys all yelled.
Mrs. Pidgeon laughed. "I knew that. I was just teasing. But no, this haiku isn't by Daisuke. In fact, it isn't by a Japanese person. The Japanese invented haiku, that's true; but anyone is allowed to use the form. And the author of this haiku is actually our room mother."
The children were silent for a moment. "But our room mother is your mother!" Chelsea said at last.
"That's true."
"She's Mrs. X!" said Beanie.
Mrs. Pidgeon laughed. "Well, that's what we all called her for a while when she was being mysterious and didn't want us to guess who she was."
"I remember when she came from the nursing home and brought us cupcakes," Tricia said. "She's very, very old."
"That's true," Mrs. Pidgeon said. "My mother is very, very old. And she's not very well at the moment, so I've been spending a lot of time at the nursing home with her. I opened up an old trunk filled with things from her past, and I found all these poems that she had written. I sit by her bed and read them to her. She likes that. Yesterday, when I read this haiku, I decided it would be a good one for our morning poem."
"Mrs. Pidgeon! I have a poem! I just made it up!" Malcolm called.
The teacher sighed. "All right, Malcolm," she said.
Malcolm stood. He said in a loud voice:
HAIKU!
KUNG FU!
He made his hands into fists, struck a pose, and kicked one leg into the air.
When all of the boys began to arrange themselves in martial-arts poses, Mrs. Pidgeon quickly went to the piano and played a few soft chords. It was her best method for calming down the entire class. It always worked.
When they were quiet and calm, she said, "I'm just going to describe the rules of haiku to you quickly, and then we must go on to our math."
She wrote her mother's poem on the board:
Over the pavement
Snow falls in January—
Soap flakes wash our tracks
They all read it aloud together.
"Okay," said Mrs. Pidgeon. "Three lines. Five syllables in the first line."
They read the first line slowly so that they could hear the syllables. Five.
"Next line: seven," said Mrs. Pidgeon.
They read the second line and could hear that it was true. Seven syllables.
"Finally, five again, in the third line," she told them, and they read it aloud.
"Usually, a haiku is about one of the seasons," she explained. "This one, of course, is about winter. It describes snow, in January. What other seasons do we have?"
"Thummer!" said Felicia Ann. "Thpring!"
"Correct. And fall, or autumn. So there we have the basic rules of haiku. Later today we'll have time to give writing haiku a try. But right now"—she looked at the clock—"we really must get to our math problems."
Then Mrs. Pidgeon noticed that Gooney Bird Greene, who had been very quiet, had her hand raised. "Yes, Gooney Bird?"
"I wrote one," Gooney Bird said. "I know I should have been facing forward, hands folded, eyes on you, when you were talking. But I couldn't help myself. Sometimes you just can't help yourself." She held up a lined paper with some writing on it.
"I know. That's true sometimes. All right, Gooney Bird, why don't you read it to the class? Then: math."
Gooney Bird stood. Frowning, she adjusted the damp knees of her tights. Then she read, from her paper:
Haiku
by Gooney Bird Greene
Winter walk to school
Stiletto boots, icy street—
Toes and knees suffer
3.
After the next morning's intercom announcements were over, Mrs. Pidgeon went to the front of the class with a paper in her hand.
"Is your mother
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