My boys and I have been writing and talking about point of view. Here's a little poem that was a five minute writing exercise we did imagining we were something they could view out the window.
I am the thorn bush,
rejected and alone.
I like it when birds come and sit on me.
I don't like it when birds sit on that other bush.
For I am the thorn bush
rejected and alone.
(Simple, but effective, don't you think! I'm biased but I think it's seething with jealousy and empathy.)
