Poetry-Reflections

There is a money tree In my living room With a braided Fishtail trunk And of these five Interwoven strands Only one of them Has visible veins Pumping water For these plumed Green leaves Like dollar bills But for the Chinese New Year We don’t hang coin garlands Or paper cranes For prosperity For Liu Haichan The toad in the moon The God of Wealth No, my mother waters The leaves And my cat likes to Eat them While my father Chases her away For fear of bad luck; Me, I just notice The tree bending over And sometimes I lay A crooked leaf over A straight one In the hope it might Correct itself Because isn’t Luck something That’s made. Sabrina Guo, 11Oyster Bay, NY

I’ve learned this week, Something I knew already But not well My mother, She sits at her desk. Typing. Writing. Scribbling furiously. I felt sorry for her. I thought she hated it. My father, He used to sit at his computer, Frowning. He’s good at numbers, But he’s tired My mom hates to build trails. He helped her. He learned. He’s still learning Everyone is. Me, I found two things, They are sort of one, Violin and poetry. They go hand in hand It takes a long time to do either I love projects We, Found something Something we loved to do As long as each of us are happy, We all are We work at our joys, Have fun, Daydream. Now I understand It. Makes. Sense Zoe Lynch, 10West Lake Hills, Texas

When I first saw the dark of night I knew who I was. I was another shard Of my birthstone. I was the king of curiosity. I was a bitter one with danger. I was a monkey going tree to tree And the “Ouch!” When I fell out of a bush. I tossed and turned to get up And I climbed out of the bush. Then a few years later, I move away too sad to say, “Will we go back and have fun?” “Yes,” says my mom, “Some day… but not for long.” Ilya Ivanović, 10Santa Barbara, CA