THE POET WITH HER FACE IN HER HANDS
I began to understand
It is beginning to unspool,
I had to backtrack though.
It was a windy day,
I was carrying a basket
Full of golden honeysuckles.
I cast into the woods.
Drifting through the wind
Like a feather
Suddenly, I came upon something.
A thicket of half-grown roses.
With no thorns.
Quinn Doll
Aubade: Oh, Nighttime
Night. Sweet, sweet night. I can
still hear the music from the parties.
I can see the lights from the
dance floor. The D.J. with his
head phones on. I can feel the
sweat on my face, running down my
cheeks like a runner running to the
finish line. But then, the morning
comes, and we all stagger home
from too much fun. Night. Sweet,
sweet night. I beg of you, stay
with me. Let us party on. Oh,
night. Sweet, sweet night. Let the
moon dance with us, and never
stop. Let the sun be alone, and
never say hello to us.
Brady Harlan
Wherever You’ve Been, You’re Home Now
Last night
I dreamed
skyscrapers, magicians
with fifty-two
cards fanning,
never-ending-clocks
ticking, tuxedoes,
ball gowns, fountains
of gold,
overflowing loads
of cash,
clowns, elephants,
private jets,
limousines and
carriages, roller
coasters, fancy
food, glass
slippers, and
a puppy
to come
home to
at night,
riches galore.
Emma Henry
October
October, brown as the fallen leaves,
the beetles as hard as the thriving
red oak during the winter.
I said to the blue jay how dee
doo little flapper.
In late fall I jump in leaves.
I won’t bark at the deer,
I won’t jump out of
a tree, nor will I touch
the electric fence.
Luke Frank
Between the Moon and the Sun
What has happened to the stars,
the ones that shined so bright?
Did they fall from the dark and into the light
as the tanned grains of sand that shift beneath your feet?
Or have the stars come to us vulnerable humans
to take their real forms, to protect us from monsters
under our beds, whose skin looks like rotten cabbage
and smells like a fat chicken’s cage?
To light up the night, like the jumbo nightlight they are
that buzz like the bees on a hot, summer day.
I think of stars like the freckles on our faces
that seem to be in a different place every time
you look into someone’s exotic eyes.
Haden Ray
Elegy for Being Young
As the night passes by and the sun starts to
rise, the roses will bloom and the ground will flutter.
Birds will sing and grass will have dew. Everything
will have a shadow. As you go outside people pass
by. You’ll miss when you were young riding
bikes all around. You’ll miss walking to the
bus stop and playing with your friends. You’ll
miss playing tag every recess. And learning math
and literacy. Sometimes when you wake up
and when you go to bed, think of some times
when you were young. They’ll help
you pass the day or even sleep faster.
They’ll make you have better dreams.
So keep on going and don’t stop for the fear there
will be changes. There might be and there might not
but still don’t quit. You can come. You can
go. Come on and just think of when you
were going to bed and going to
school, going to the store with your
mom and begging for everything you
see, and maybe going outside to ride
your bikes with your brother.
Kylee Whitley
Greenbrier Public Schools
Greenbrier, AR
Dates of Visit: November 13 – 14, 2013
Faculty Sponsor: Robin Clark
Grade Levels: 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Appx. Number Students Served: 120
Visiting Writers: Kimberly Driggers, Diana Reaves