November 2021

They are dressed as if they just went to a funeral. Which they have. But only I know. They went to mourn In Los Angeles, And are staying at a hotel now. They are probably taking off Dresses and ties. They’re coming home tomorrow. I begged to go But Mom asked me what funeral I was talking about. Yesterday I got a letter. It said, “Dear friend, We miss you. We are coming home soon. The funeral was sad. Wish you could be there. Love, Your friends.” Today My friends Came back. While I helped them Take off their coats, One of them asked, “Did you get our letter?” I felt happy Even though the handwriting on the letter Was mine. Emma Catherine Hoff, 8Bronx, New York

I shared My apricot With a bird. It said, “Thank you.” I don’t know when the bird started talking. It wrapped me in its arms. It had a gentle grip. Such a gentle grip. Too gentle of a grip, I thought. Supernatural. I don’t know When the bird grew arms. All I know Are my thoughts. Right then I was thinking this was not a good way to show gratitude. I didn’t know Where it was taking me. But then the bird vanished. Its gentle grip was gone. And I was falling. I landed In a queer place. Above me Stood a human with a beak. And I knew at once That it was Carry, The animal I shared my apricot with. All I could think was the Sweet, sweet fact That above me there were several apricots. And I wanted to have one. For I had shared mine earlier today With a bird. Emma Catherine Hoff, 8Bronx, New York