The nights are long The days are short A breeze is blown A day is a day. It can’t be reliven Make today today Tomorrow is tomorrow The gray is space or a planet. A cold breeze sweeps by It is time to return Analise Braddock, 8Katonah, NY
Poetry-Reflections
Some Days
Some days I am a girl. On these days I like to giggle and play with toys. I wear bright blue clothes and shirts with cats on them. When I feel like a girl, my feelings change. I feel kind and happy. I like being a girl. But . . . There is a downside. […]
In the Mirror
It’s not surprising I look like a monochrome: The only colors are pink laces on my shoes And purple bags beneath my eyes. Like an old-fashioned photograph— “Subject stares beyond the camera. Subject seems so sad.” The people in the pictures never smile. Their faces stay stony and unreadable Even though they see everything, […]
