In the cold, dark waters of the lake in Wisconsin, His yellow eyes swivel about His ns never stop waving I can barely hear the swish of his tail— Just a vibration in the water His brown-green scales are black in the murk His translucent ns are almost invisible I can almost taste the blood coming from his fresh meal Bubbles oat to the surface— He is feeding I imagine the raw, mildew-ish stink that clings to him His large nostrils are He hears, and sees my bright rattle-trap lure His white, razor-sharp teeth are moving up and down I feel the shaking, the pounding, the tension of my fishing line The giant, scaly monster-muskie swims away, The plastic chartreuse of my lure clutched between his killer teeth I hear a ping! as my braided line snaps. Ben Stieren, 13Omaha, Nebraska
Poetry-Animals
Reflection
I spread my sides, flattening like Play-Doh, And close my eyes as light spreads its fingers over my back. My blood heats and spills warmth into my tail and toes. Hidden prey sings the song of my recognition and their mating. I open my eyes to see a lizard. He lies on his tri-colored boulder like a scaly draping. He looks dull against his darkened, nonsensical, almost see-through background. Another sun rests above his head. How nice it must be to have the sun follow you around. He cocks his head as I do the same, He often comes when the crickets sing and often sits on his red rock. Tonight he is a wet bearded dragon, like he was in the rain. As I have been, Warm water poured down my head as I stood, Up to my sides, in water before I went to my den. Prey sits in front of him as a chirp sounds in my ear. I admire the diamonds on his back, so like my own, And the red and white around his ears I also thought were mine alone. Our close resemblance is queer. His tail is gray but red striped and tame. And his head is the work of a perfectionist artist In its perfect symmetrical design only nature can claim. I clamber off my red basking rock and so does he. This night he moves with me, mirroring my every move. He looks so close he could be me. Then click… the sun is dark. My eyes see in the new land instantly, But the lizard in gone, where does he lurk? I pull my dragon body over my hill into my cave, And wonder if he will come on the dawn of tomorrow Genevieve Jacobs, 12Tallahassee, Florida
Morn
Hazy gray-gold light Patterns on the wall. Mystical. Creaking door, A frisky tail, and she pounces Ever so light. She prances, Arches her back, kneads deep into the blanket, And collapses. I curl around her, A snug cocoon. One. Her eyes mere slits A faint meow, Contented. A caressing hand, Smoothing her rumpled fur, Soft and warm like gingerbread. I rest my hand near her heart, Listen to her raspy purr. Close my eyes. And I doze off again. Enveloped, In the gray-gold morning light. Katherine Shock, 12Baltimore, Maryland