Found Poem Holes by Louis Sachar

Modeling Page 127: There was a change in the weather. For the worse. The air became unbearably humid. Stanley was drenched in sweat. Beads of moisture ran down the handle of his shovel. It was almost as if the temperature had gotten so hot that the air itself was sweating.

A loud book of thunder echoed across the empty lake. A storm was way off to the west, beyond the mountains. Stanley could count more than thirty seconds between the flash of lighting and the clap of thunder. That was how far away the storm was. Sound travels at a great distance across a barren wasteland.

Found Poem from Text: There was a change A storm beyond the mountains. For the worse. The air became humid Beads of moisture ran down The handle of his shovel Almost as if the air itself was sweating Thunder echoed across the empty lake A storm beyond the mountains. Thirty seconds between the flash and the thunder Sound travels a great distance Across a barren wasteland

Guided Practice Page 128: “I found refuge on God’s Thumb.” That was what his great-grandfather had supposedly said after Kate Barlow had robbed him and left him stranded in the desert. No one ever knew what he meant by that. He was delirious when he said it.

“But how could he live for three weeks without food or water “But how could he live for three weeks without food or water?” Stanley asked his father… The storm moved off farther west, along with any hope of rain. But the image of the fist and the thumb remained in Stanley’s head. Although, instead of lightning flashing beyond the thumb, in Stanley’s mind, the lightning was coming out of the thumb, as if it were the thumb of God.

Found Poem from Text:

Create a Found Poem! Page 152: The sun was almost directly overhead. He figured he could walk for no more than another hour, maybe two, before he had to turn back. It seemed pointless. He could see there was nothing ahead of him. Nothing but emptiness. He was hot, tired, hungry, and, most of all, thirsty. Maybe he should just turn around now. Maybe he had already gone halfway and didn’t know it.

Then, looking around, he saw a pool of water less than a hundred yards away from where he was standing. He closed his eyes and opened them to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. The pool was still there. He hurried toward it. The pool hurried away from him, moving as he moved, stopping when he stopped. There wasn’t any water. It was a mirage caused by the shimmering waves of heat rising off the dry ground.