Every day my father
Got out of bed at five
And my mother – up before him –
Had his breakfast waiting.
Their quiet breakfast voices
And the clinking of their dishes
Were carried on the stillness
To the darkness of my room.
They ate poached egg on toast
And drank their coffee strong and black.
Ten boys and four men, with their packs
Walk in the leaf-filled ruts
On a road into the woods.
They find a clearing on a hill,
Pitch their canvas,
After dark, the campfire burns.
They stand with faces toward the flame
And long cold shadows thrown behind.
Inside the zippered tent at last:
A smell of mold,
A sound of falling leaves,
A bit of moonlight
Coming through the open flap.
Read the poem above, think of the questions below and answer one of them (5-10 sentences).
1. What is the poem about? Retell the story in your own words.
2. Write a similar text about something that you remember from your childhood.
3. Do you read poetry sometimes? Why (not)? Do you have a favorite poet? Who is it?