poem

Going to the Beach, a poem by Katie Yang, 11

Katie Yang, 11San Jose, CA Going to the Beach Katie Yang, 11       YESTERDAY Beautiful day. I went to the beach. The beach is beautiful too. Shining brightly like it has just won a million dollars. Shining brightly over everyone at the beach Like it is the luckiest sun in the world. There are gentle waves And the ocean is as smooth as glass and as shimmery as a mermaid’s tail Occasionally a big wave to sweep us off our feet But making sure that it eventually spits everyone back on shore. The beach is so beautiful With the floury sand and the smooth waves TODAY I want to go to the beach. I’ll bet the water is perfect And the sand will be like powdered sugar I’ll bet the beach is beautiful The powdery sand and the flat waves With the sun shining brightly like it just won a million dollars But The sun does not care for all the money in the world Having all the gold and jewels will not make it happy So perhaps the sun’s not shining brightly Perhaps it is sulking Sulking In its blanket of clouds As it tries to convince itself that everything will be okay Sulking Over all the people dying Everyone who will not go to the beach again ever TOMORROW Perhaps there is beautiful weather All the time It is not special anymore But maybe There are no beaches to go to Despite the good weather Living in our own protected bubble worlds Maybe we will be there At that time We will perhaps ask ourselves, What did the beach look like again? And someone will respond, The beach was beautiful With gentle waves And the ocean is as smooth as glass and as shimmery as a mermaid’s tail Oh I wish I could’ve gone one last time It was so beautiful The floury sand and the smooth waves . .

Pasta Sandwiches in Quarantine, a prose poem by Adrianna Ho, 8

Adrianna Ho, 8Media, PA Pasta Sandwiches in Quarantine Adrianna Ho, 8 1. In quarantine I missed my uncle’s wedding because it was cancelled in May, and Take Your Child to Work Day: I was going to meet my mom’s coworkers and friends and join her meetings. I missed Field Day with games, and May Day with carnival games. Mr. C., my gym teacher, had planned it, and you could get half a lemon with a candy straw! I miss going to school. I miss having sleepovers: one in the beginning of summer and one at the end. Some of my friends couldn’t come to my birthday party. The magician couldn’t come. Before quarantine, I had plans with my good friend who moved to Boston to get together and sell all the leftover candies and save every penny. 2.  In quarantine I turned 8 and learned to ride a bike I learned that daddy makes yummy sandwiches and mommy makes good pasta. Pasta sandwiches for lunch! I still can see my ballet friends and classmates right online. I still pick flowers on nature walks and walk on the rocks to get over the streams. In quarantine, I grew half an inch. I learned how to feed my dog Rusty and take him outside. I learned how to type without looking at the keyboard and how to make peanut butter sandwiches when daddy is busy, and that our school nurse is a good yoga instructor and our second grade teacher reminds me that if I believe I can, I can. I learned that I don’t have to go out to the theater because I can watch movies at my house cuddling, eating snacks, and petting Rusty. I learned I can relax anytime and anywhere, I close my eyes, I take deep breaths A couple of minutes later I open my eyes and put my hands on my heart, and namaste. I learned to read chapter books: Harry Potter, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, oh! And don’t forget Charlie and Chocolate Factory! I learned to organize my closet, to keep it clean. I grew to wear my big sister’s clothes while in quarantine. I learned that the crown-shaped virus is the Coronavirus. If I could talk to the Coronavirus, I’d say, “The Heat Is On! I Know The Heat Can Stop You From Spreading.”  

Then and Now, a poem by Kaitlyn Ho, 11

Kaitlyn Ho, 11Media, PA Then and Now Kaitlyn Ho, 11 If I knew then what I know now I would have prepared for house arrest because of those crown-shaped bacteria those wrecking balls I would have told myself to enjoy every bit of food at our last restaurant to savor the laughter and spring clothes that I would get at the last mall But they felt like normal days the astonishing days full of surprises the days I took for granted when I could wonder What will happen next? But that’s gone now I know that things will never be the same That even after there are less cases and they find a vaccine No one will be willing to jump into ball pits anymore If this never happened now I would be shopping for summer dresses dancing with joy because my PSSAs are over and because I survived my first year at middle school I would be eating lots of ice cream Maybe I wouldn’t have discovered frozen grapes without with the help of house arrest If I was able to tell my past self to savor every colorful memory maybe then those memories like fluttering birds could have left me with some feathers of feeling licking gelato on the streets of Rome cool sweet gelato melting on my tongue washing away the heat like gentle rain on an aching body The memory of diving into the almost deep end of the pool calm swirling beams of light twisting through the blue water in contrast to the shaking inside That is how I remember If I knew then what I know now slammed behind the walls that were once my sanctuary I would prepare myself for the walks that remind me there is more than my house walking five miles the long walk in the woods lush greens grit and walking across clear rivers The neighborhood walk that isn’t even that long Crisp, cool air and dying petals falling like our voices on the silent streets The stripes of dirt on pink bike tires Walking isn’t just walking anymore Maybe if the me in the future came up to me right now and told me what was going to happen to this mess Perhaps I could know when this will all be over