Poetry-Reflections

The pyramids were made to remind people of a ruler But now something lasts longer and can fit in a cooler. Plastic is like a shapeshifting ooze. An eternally flexible yet strong fuse That is slowly burning to our explosive end. Pennies to make, Fortunes to break. Made of the remnants of before With a host of chemicals. All for what, a vessel of soda? We fear poison, but we create it. Send it into our luscious waterways And bury it in our merry earth. We deny our extinction But we kill ourselves. Teddy Lykouretzos, 13Bronxville, NY

Why do we take pictures? The ability to endlessly preserve is one of many modern fixtures. If we like a dish, we order another. Impossible to do with the birth of a brother. Capturing fireflies in a glass, Eventually they burn out and pass. Wedding cake in a freezer, Forever able to eat at one’s leisure. Still tastes of cherry, But not as good as when you went to marry. Even hands in cement, statues of stone Are gone like the wind’s moan. Don’t you get it? Nothing is and I’m not being mean. Life, love, even colors on a screen. Teddy Lykouretzos, 13Bronxville, NY

I look at the clock The red hand ticks, shifting its weight onto the next number Shifting its promise and memories on and on A clock tells time I believe it tells time from its perspective Every clock is different Every clock has a different view of things These numbers are what give us our limits They tell us when to stop and when to go on But this is different for clocks They don’t have limits They are endless This red hand visits every number, ticking until it finds eternity Ticking until it visits the right number But there is no right or wrong Don’t get tired of other numbers Don’t forget about what you said and what you promised Don’t leave behind the things you love just because of another number BE YOURSELF WHEN THE HAND COMES BY Sofia Dardzinski, 9Potomac, MD