Blevins Public Schools

LITTLE MISSOURI RIVER

I love the Little Missouri River.
The water sounds are quiet, but
able to be heard, “swish, swish,”
the river makes. It’s cold and
very shallow. To me it’s the best
place on earth. “Swish, swish” is all
I hear while I’m in the cold
river.

Remi Morrow


If a Question Mark were a Shoe

If a question mark were
a shoe, what would it do? Would
it question every little thing?
Would it be curious to the step?

If a shoe were a
question mark would it skid up the
paper? If a shoe were a question
mark would it squeak every time
it halted to a stop?

Would they be amazing
at each other’s jobs or would
the shoe squish the words?
Would the get job-sick and
go back or would the question
mark have to stop and question
everything?

What if a question mark
were a shoe?

Ally Fincher


Rules for Stomping Mockingbirds

You sneak up on a nocking
bird quietly. You’re behind it
so it won’t fly away. Raise
your foot up. Then bring
it down. So hard that it
is squashed. Then wipe the blood off your shoe.

Chase Walding


Sad

Sad smells like rotten egg.
Sad sounds like a full grown man
crying. Sad feels like a bee stinging you.
Sad looks like a woman getting her
legs chopped off into tiny pieces for
dogs to eat.
Sad tastes like squid.
Sad smells like my friend’s breath
Every day

Caleb Speneel


My Weird Life

I watch the cat
chase the dogs
then I watch
the deer hunting
in the wods
and after that
I watch the students
teach the teachers

Zack Murphy


An Alien Comes on Earth

As I walk outside, I look at
the stars, all of a sudden they go away
I look at a spaceship, I feel abnormal,
I taste nervousness in the air, I touch an
alien, aliens are on Earth, not only that
they are in my backyard!

Waillon Sturman


Men at 33

Walking up the road, pain in my joints.
Take out my Advil, pop a few, and back to doing me.
Waking up to the sound of laundry and smelling
a good cooked breakfast. But it’s only a dream,
the grief of being a man. Still. I can taste the future.
I was 33, my hands were smooth and moisturized.
By the time of the hour, I stopped and realized
I was only 16.

Joe W.


The Morning After I’m Gone

On the morning after I’m gone,
I see that everybody is walking and not
Riding in cars. It starts to rain. I do
not know anybody. I do not have a single
friend, I do not know anything about
this ‘town.’ I have an umbrella, thankfully,
but that is all I have. The umbrella
is like a thin little leaf keeping the rain
away from me.

Unless, of course,
I do not have anybody to talk to.
Which means I do not have anybody
to talk to because I do not
have any friends.
On the street, men are
walking their dogs and enjoying
their precious time, petting their
brown, blonde, white and all sorts of
different colored dogs. I wish I
could be chatting with
another.

They are singing about
other people being there with
them, going into shops and doing
other things like going into
their houses and apartments.
I wish I could be them.

Hailey Webb


To Dance in a Tornado

Dancing around with ants in my
pants inside a tornado, passing a
cow and horse put together. I
hear a loud swirling in my head,
can’t stay on my feet, just keep
falling down trying to dance. I hear
the wind whispering my name, saying
Come, dancing like a bird flying
in the wind. The tornado swirling
faster and faster.

Shemia Swift


Seven Bridge Road

I hear a truck a mile away
It sounds like a big diesel
The sound gets closer and louder, I can hear it
through the frogs and crickets of the woods
I look around searching for lights
I see lights peeking through the trees
The smell of diesel smoke runs through my nose
They are getting closer
My friend calls out, “There’s Mark!”
I look behind me and I see a black truck
He gets out and reaches into an ice chest
He walks up and hands us each a drink
It was better than it would have been another time
It was very sweet, sweeter than honeysuckle

Tristan Nivens


To Dance with an Earthquake

To dance with an earthquake
is like dancing around holes
from years ago. I feel like becoming
an earthquake myself because I’m
shaking all over. I hear it whisper
Run, run, run. Now. Scared, I run
away.

Christina Crandell


Blevins Public Schools
Blevins, AR
Date of Visit: April 25 – 26, 2013
Faculty Sponsor: Regina Huskey
Grade Levels: 5, 6, 10
Appx. Number Students Served: 80
Visiting Writers: Megan Blankenship, Jane Blunschi, Kimberly Driggers, and Katie Nichol