I wonder why we call bats “bats”— why do we call them that? I wonder why little kids burp and crickets chirp and why snow is in the winter. Speaking of snow, why is it called snow and not sand? Why is music sometimes called a band? And why do people walk on land? And why do they die or cry or get mad or sad?Why are we the ones that can talk and the ones that have technology? Why aren’t hedgehogs a sophisticated species? Why do spiders give you the creepies? It doesn’t seem right to me, why the world is this way. I think the world should be different but I can’t make hedgehogs talk or fish walk. So I think that I will just burrow under the earth inspect the workings of the world and see what makes the world this messed-up way. But I kind of like the world this way— just a little. So I will stay here where I am and watch the flow. Sterling Waterfield, 11Fort Wayne, IN
Poetry-Nature
The City
Stoplights reflect off the bay The faint sound of glasses clinking and people talking is carried on the breeze The moon is shrouded by clouds Towering buildings blink with neon lights A lone car drives across a scarlet bridge Karinne Ulrey, 10Los Gatos, CA Eli Breyer Essiam, 10Cambridge, MA
The City
Stoplights reflect off the bay The faint sound of glasses clinking and people talking is carried on the breeze The moon is shrouded by clouds Towering buildings blink with neon lights A lone car drives across a scarlet bridge Karinne Ulrey, 10Los Gatos, CA Eli Breyer Essiam, 10Cambridge, MA
