We see autumn As a blaze Of red leaves, falling leaf-shaped embers From the branch-lined sky, A blaze Of squirrels rushing, Geese hurrying, of motion, A blaze Of jack-o-lanterns. But around the jack-o-lanterns falls the night, Advancing slowly through the days, A black cat stalking the now-mouse-weak sun. Northern winds come Hand in hand with warm zephyrs Above the autumn’s thin skin of fire, Waltzing around each other; Summer to winter and back While below, Frost turns soil to stone, For hardy autumn-leaf mushrooms to stand brittle Like Medusa’s stare. Gabriel Wainio-Theberge,12 Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Poem
Empty Spotlight
Does anything exist at this hour, when my footsteps crash, and my breathing screams? When every slight movement I make, Feels like a leap? When I’m all alone, my house is quiet. Outside the streetlights blur, and twist themselves into shapes that spotlight on the patch of gravel, that’s empty No one is there, to stand in that spotlight, and listen to the applause, of the grass, blowing in the wind. And I am inside, looking out, at an empty place, that I wish were mine. Cora W. Bucher,13 Missoula, Montana
Watching
I lie on the grass, My back on the soft earth, Wind quietly whistling Through the tall oak behind me I watch the sky And as the clock spins The sky does also, The clouds passing through On their way To the rest of the world Gently waving their shape-shifting fingers And floating away The sun finishes its continual arch And shows off its silent brilliance as it Prepares to slip below the horizon Its light piecing the rainbow on the blue canvas sky Like an enormous jigsaw that Just like the clouds Shifts every day, then fades to blue A deep, restful blue held back by the tiny pinpoint stars That emerge from their day of sleep And wink at the last of the sun Then turn respectfully again towards the moon Their moon. Their hushed lullaby a soft glimmer As the moon holds itself with such posture, Such presence. Carrying out its midnight duty. And as I breathe it in, I feel like one of them. Goodnight, I whisper to them. And I truly am happy to be alive. Laine Bruzek, 12 Wheaton, Illinois
Sunset
I watch the sun melting like butter into the calm swirl of waves and foam It glides down, a flying ballerina In the far end of my vision, I can see shimmering stars glistening: City lights I look deeply into the vast universe below, a world of its own, And see reflections Somewhere, I can be sure, someone else is beholding the same image. And watching the same moon run like a track star into the waiting sky, Her finish line I hear the buzz of voice and wind and sea, blended to perfection I breathe the deep night air in deeply and regard the infinite sky, Ever changing like the world around me And in that short moment of life, everything is silent I can remember none of my past, and can think not of my future I can hear no buzz, only the rhythmic sounds of my heart and my breath I feel I am alone on this earth, alone with the stars and the moon and the wind Alone with only one song to listen to: The song of peace that has been heard by many before, And will be for many to come And then it all disappears: The aloneness The light San Francisco, Into darkness Rhiannon Grodnik,11 San Francisco, California
But Still It Waits
A tree Waiting Standing high, drinking water Through its mighty roots Near a river Shimmering blue As smooth as glass It watches the leaves fall And quickly swept away by the river Swept far, far away But still it waits Its branches blow gently Back and forth A fish jumps out of the water Glistening in the sun The tree wonders What it is like underwater? But still it waits The tree hears birds flying Near its branches Taunting it By flying far away And coming back The tree wants to explore Wants to see the world around But still it waits It is now afternoon And the tree looks around It sees the beauty of what is around it It longs to see what is down the river Or over the mountain But still it waits Nicholas Bonavolonta, 12 Oakland, California
Sunset
I watch the sun melting like butter into the calm swirl of waves and foam It glides down, a flying ballerina In the far end of my vision, I can see shimmering stars glistening: City lights I look deeply into the vast universe below, a world of its own, And see reflections Somewhere, I can be sure, someone else is beholding the same image. And watching the same moon run like a track star into the waiting sky, Her finish line I hear the buzz of voice and wind and sea, blended to perfection I breathe the deep night air in deeply and regard the infinite sky, Ever changing like the world around me And in that short moment of life, everything is silent I can remember none of my past, and can think not of my future I can hear no buzz, only the rhythmic sounds of my heart and my breath I feel I am alone on this earth, alone with the stars and the moon and the wind Alone with only one song to listen to: The song of peace that has been heard by many before, And will be for many to come And then it all disappears: The aloneness The light San Francisco, Into darkness Rhiannon Grodnik,11 San Francisco, California
Cape Cod Bay Tide
Our suspicion grows as the tide rises. The path is gone along with the beach, blocking our way. The marsh has disappeared, the sand a new brown, the sky a pale gray. Ice chunks linger in the ever flowing waters. The bird cries are far out on the bay where the ice banks end, where open water lies. Jump from island to island, making sure not to get splashed by the freezing salt water. Our dog runs out onto the icebergs, and then comes shivering back to our heels. The cold wind blows and seems to push the tide in. The trunks of the pines touch the bank, inches away from the sea. The sun hides, and the hills seem to grow with the shadows. The eyes of little crabs come from holes along the beach, and scurry to higher ground. This is high tide. Sophie Anne Ruehr, 11 Brookline, Massachusetts
The Redwing Blackbird Sings
In the morning I wake up At six-fifteen Much too early Hair is combed Teeth are brushed Breakfast is had One day being like another But On my way to the bus stop A redwing blackbird sings Doo-Dee-oo! Time stops But my feet still move It is March The air has a fresh rainy smell The redwing blackbird Sings again Doo-Dee-oo! I am at the bus stop The bus pulls up And time starts again Nina Wilson, 10 Grayslake, Illinois
There Was a Blizzard
Blizzard white snow twirling dancing like another kind of ballerina. I see a girl she is white— seeing something I can’t see— a white hawk circling Alice Provost Simmons, 10 Barrington, Rhode Island
Early Spring
The ice and snow are almost melted, Winter’s biting cold has mellowed, Mountains brown and bare for so long, Show an almost imperceptible haze of green. The sky is the delicate shade of thrushes’ eggs Soon to be laid in a nest of mud and twigs. A mole furrows the earth’s brow with his tunneling, Cautious tongues of green make their way Through last autumn’s leaves into the balmy air. The first robin pecks at the newly softened ground, And drags an unwilling worm into the light. Ava Alexander, 11 Dalton, Pennsylvania
The Lonely Star
The rustle of rough leaves awakens me from my rest And I gaze up at a dark sky as vast as the sea And laugh as the stars tumble into my hair “How green your leaves are!” the stars whisper in my hair. “How bright with happiness you are,” I sigh. “No. The sky is cold and lonely,” the stars moan. “At least the birds don’t peck at your arms and the squirrels don’t hide nuts in your armpits.” “But the birds sing to you and the squirrels tickle your bark.” “True, I’m lucky to be a tree.” “Alas, my nearest neighbor is ten light-years away.” “But you guide people through the darkness.” “Yes, we do,” the stars whisper, their voices tinted with new light. And as a blue jay’s soft feathers brush my arms, I inhale the sharp green sent of pine, and I laugh Cayley Ziak, 12 Coto de Caza, California
The Wolf
I sit on the porch The dark woods around me Insects chirping And listen To the distant sounds of the party Inside. It is a party thrown for me, By my parents. A party I didn’t want— Strangers crowding into our little house People I don’t know Pinching my cheeks Muttering lies about “How she’s grown!” I escape to the woods Fleeing the lights And the cheerful, pointless chatter And crouch in a dark clearing Reveling in the silence And the dark. A flash of movement And a wolf creeps into the clearing I freeze in fear Breath making tiny white puffs in the air Terrified to move Terrified to stay still. The slim, strong, deadly animal Looks at me Dark, intelligent eyes. Like my own. We stare in silence Caught in the spell of the winter woods. Then I whisper, “You’re alone, too?” The beautiful, elegant head Seems to dip in a nod And then the wolf Proud, fierce, and yet gentle, Turns and vanishes into the shadows. I walk slowly back to the house Returning to my party Where I wasn’t missed. Before I go inside I turn For one last look. Hoping somehow She had come to say goodbye. The trees are still and empty. Disappointed, I reach for the door And then stop— A sound from the forest. A long, lonely howl. It starts out rough But spirals up into a sweet, sorrowful note That sounds like tears And ends. I think of the wolf Alone in the forest. I face the trees and whisper, “Me too.” Coley Scheppegrell, 13 Charlotte, North Carolina
