{"id":3787,"date":"2023-04-21T01:00:31","date_gmt":"2023-04-21T05:00:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/umaine.edu\/spire\/?p=3787"},"modified":"2023-04-21T09:03:55","modified_gmt":"2023-04-21T13:03:55","slug":"lagasse-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/umaine.edu\/spire\/2023\/04\/21\/lagasse-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Series: Grade 7 | Science | Unit 8 | Dissecting a Frog; Turkey Crossing; Undocumented"},"content":{"rendered":"
By Tom Lagasse<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n A sour fog permeates the entire second floor\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n of St. Ann\u2019s School and lingers<\/span><\/p>\n with foreboding.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Is this what death smells like?<\/span><\/p>\n Several classmates gag and bolt.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Under banks of cold fluorescent lights, Sister Theresa pries\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n open the white plastic buckets.<\/span><\/p>\n Lifeless frogs are layered<\/span><\/p>\n one upon the other\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n skimmed from a pond and packed,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n now preserved in pungent formaldehyde\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n for a stable shelf life.<\/span><\/p>\n The smells of pond or swamp or decay\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n are stifled, gone.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n We work in teams<\/span><\/p>\n like pre-teen surgeons.<\/span><\/p>\n Sister Theresa gives each group: First:\u00a0 pin the legs, expose the soft underbelly, measure the length.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Then: record the data on a sheet of paper secured to a clipboard.<\/span><\/p>\n Next: I offer to make the first cut.<\/span><\/p>\n With the scalpel \u2013 so small and sharp \u2013 I slice\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n the thin epidermis, which peels away<\/span><\/p>\n like a plastic wrap stretched across a rack of ribs.<\/span><\/p>\n The second slice: the dermis.<\/span><\/p>\n We pin back the layers, exposing<\/span><\/p>\n the inside cavity,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n like the workings of a clock or laptop:<\/span><\/p>\n here are the frog\u2019s perfectly packed organs.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Sister Theresa tells us where to cut, the seven systems orchestrating in concert.<\/span><\/p>\n It is not the flayed frog that makes my stomach churn, but thinking<\/span><\/p>\n Of the tuna fish sandwich I will have for lunch in forty-five minutes.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n For once I am grateful for an empty stomach.<\/span><\/p>\n All these years later, I wonder:<\/span><\/p>\n instead of treating the frogs as <\/span>things<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n to be sliced and studied,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n wouldn\u2019t we have learned more\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n taking a field trip\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n to the pond, removing our sneakers and\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n stepping into the cold black water,<\/span><\/p>\n where the primordial ooze cements us\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n to the pond floor,<\/span><\/p>\n where tadpoles dart around us,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n where we feel the sunlight caress our skin,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n and we listen\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n for the frogs\u2019 mysterious croaking music.<\/span><\/p>\n A splash of pond water,<\/span> \u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n free from fog.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Early morning.\u00a0 Mid-week.\u00a0 End of January.\u00a0 I am punctual or tardy.\u00a0 Punching the gas, Of the hill which spills into the fenced-in reservoir. Of the road a single turkey, armored in acorn Stands anchored, like a crossing guard, and Into what is left of the wooded wild.\u00a0 This ancient way <\/p>\n The icy silence cracks. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By Tom Lagasse Grade 7 | Science | Unit 8 | Dissecting a Frog A sour fog permeates the entire second floor\u00a0 of St. Ann\u2019s School and lingers with foreboding.\u00a0\u00a0 Is this what death smells like? Several classmates gag and bolt.\u00a0 Under banks of cold fluorescent lights, Sister Theresa pries\u00a0 open the white plastic […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2031,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3787","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-spire-2023-issue"],"yoast_head":"\nGrade 7 | Science | Unit 8 | Dissecting a Frog<\/h3>\n
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 frog,
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 tray,
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 scalpel.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 what we see,
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 how it works (or worked),\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\nTurkey Crossing<\/h3>\n
\n<\/span>driving to work and running on the fine edge of being\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>I race towards the bottom<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>Speed downshifts to caution.\u00a0 In the middle<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>brown and regal bronze plumage, confidently<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>shepherds the flock of six across to safe passage<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>interrupted by the pavement of human convenience.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nUndocumented<\/h3>\n
\n<\/span>The great horned owl\u2019s
\nsolitary call echoes
\n<\/span>through the snow-
\n<\/span>laden woods
\n<\/span>meandering to
\n<\/span>the stars.
\n<\/span>Who needs to
\n<\/span>record this truth,
\n<\/span>to place it
\n<\/span>on a Cartesian plane
\n<\/span>or on a measure
\n<\/span>to prove its worth?
\n<\/span>Undocumented flurries
\n<\/span>of song for audiences
\n<\/span>increasingly alien to us.
\n<\/span>We are not alone.<\/span><\/p>\n