Poems by Grant Helgeland, Hunter Nelson, Oliver Lee, Tanner Otto, Catie Glodowski. Kelsey Buley, and Alexa Kihle.
Baseball
By Grant Helgeland
Ball traveling through the air
A vacation for the family
Sightful
Exhilarating
Beautiful
All you could ever ask for
Lots of memories
Love for the game.
Love like socks
By Grant Helgeland
A pair of socks
always together
one on the left foot
one on the right
alternating steps
together
even if one gets a hole
or stinks worse than sweaty hockey gear in a hot car
getting washed and aired out
needing a little space to itself,
then they reunite in the dresser with the other couples
until they go on another journey.
Joy like a Pencil
by Hunter Nelson
Flows off and on the paper
In and out of our life
Comes in all sizes
Shapes or forms
Sometimes it gets used up
Leaving us with just shavings
Sometimes it can be sharp
Sometimes it can be dull
Sometimes we borrow it to a friend
In need of our help
Sometimes we don’t have enough
For even ourselves.
Ballglove
by Hunter Nelson
Best friend
Always there
Left hand
Light
Great
Love it
Outfield
Valiant
Effortless.
Fishing 1
by Oliver Lee
Floating on the water
Intensely awaiting
Setting the hook
Hooks in your fingers
Inclement weather
Never want to leave
Good thing we’re young
Fishing 2
by Oliver Lee
Floating on the water
Intensely awaiting
Setting the hook
Hooked into a big one
Insanely strong fish
Not gonna stop reeling
Grab the tape measure.
The Catch
By Tanner Otto
On a frozen lake late in the Winter
A family standing around
Laughing and having a good time
The Tip-ups scattered around
Placed in their holes
Gleaming in the afternoon light
Baited and set
The family is losing patience
When the flag pops up
They reel in their largest fish yet
The fish is measured and weighed
A photo is snapped
And the fish is released
Back down the hole
The family had fun
And will remember this day
On Lake of the Woods
In Northern U.S.A
It’s Time to Go
By Tanner Otto
It’s time to go
Just before the golden sunrise
I zip up my bulky, black jacket
and tie on my boots
The door opens like a portal
revealing the morning light
The birds chirping
The smell of morning dew on the grass
A slow paced walk to the wood’s edge
It’s time to go for a morning walk.
Wolves
By Tanner Otto
Walking in the night
On top of the hill
Looking for prey
Visions of food
Eventually spotted
Stealthily kills
Dinner for the night.
Peace is like a child
By Tanner Otto
Running around without fear
Not a care in the world
Passing out hugs to strangers
Saying please and thank you
Building in the sandbox
sharing their toys
Using their imagination
They want to be police officers
and doctors
and firefighters.
Sunset to Sunrise
by Catie Glodowski
First, a bright yellow in the midst
of a mix of vibrant blue and white.
But as time wears on, those bright colors
get sleepy and turn to more mellow hues.
The bright yellow to a fiery orange;
the blue and white to soft pinks and somber grays.
The orb of light continues on its trek—
its crawl to its nest, beyond the horizon.
Leaving behind a blanket over the sky,
made of a sad blue, turning darker as the night takes over.
Before long, the sun’s apprentices wake up—
white specks in a world of black.
Soon, the sun’s nemesis— the moon— emerges from its slumber,
casting a white light over the Earth.
He makes his own journey through the sky,
hoping creatures would like him instead of the sun.
Finally, the sun has had enough rest and returns,
slowly, and with bright shades of orange and red.
She wakes up the world,
and makes her way through the day.
Once she starts to reach the horizon
the cycle begins again.
If the World Could Speak
by Catie Glodowski
If the world could speak,
what would it say?
Would it tell you a joke
to make you laugh?
Or would it come up with something deep
to make you think?
If the world could speak…
A tall, majestic pine tree
standing alone among acres of brush.
A branch cracks like a footstep.
“Who’s there!?” you shout.
“Well, what defines you?”
The tree shoots back.
If the world could speak,
what would it say?
Would it be down
and say something sad?
Or would it be upbeat
and say something happy?
If the world could speak…
A lonesome tree
bent down in the breeze.
It’s branches twisted
into a crossing pout.
“Leaf me alone…”
It says with a sniffle.
If the world could speak,
what would it say?
Would it be like a child,
playing games all day long?
Or would it be mature,
and rarely joke around?
If the world could speak…
A rushing river in its bed
bubbling across the rocks.
Two fish within, racing along
trying to beat the current.
“I’m gonna beat you!”
“Not if I beat you first!”
If the world could speak,
every thing would be unique.
Each and every organism
would have it’s own personality.
If the world could speak,
it would be a wonderful but terrifying thing.
Pride like a Puppy
By Kelsey Buley
It is fuzzy and warm
It is innocent but oft misbehaves
It licks and nips at your ankles
You’re elated when you’re around it
It whimpers when it needs affection
It makes a mess when you don’t tend to it
You want to show it off to all your friends and family
It pounces on you and wants you to play with it often
It makes you feel wanted.
Her
By Alexa Kihle
She’s wild
Her beauty is known
Her upbeat style shines
She’s confidant
Her eyes sparkle in the darkness
Her noise can be heard
She’s sassy
Her head is held higher than the stars
Her charcoal black coat radiates her beauty
She’s elegant
Her hooves click, click, click when she trots
Her mane blows in the summer wind
She’s outgoing
Her tail swishes at my presence
Her nicker fills my ears with warmth
She’s curious
Her heart yearns for adventure
Her head bobbles as she watches me
She’s my world
And I’m her everything.
Dixie
By Alexa Kihle
She looks at me and grunts.
A soft gentle push of air out of her snout.
She lumbers over to me as I watch her deep
muscles slide under her black skin.
Her ears move to the sound of my sweet tone,
the yellow and black ear-tags flapping eagerly.
She’s shy at first.
Her tail twitches when I gently stroke
her soft, warm belly.
I sit down next to her.
she pokes her hooves into my leg
As she gingerly nudges my ribcage.
There’s nothing.
No birds chirping in the treetops.
No wind howling through the leaves.
No humming from the greenhouses.
Only me and Dixie.
I watch her as the sun gradually gets
higher and higher in the sky.
I get up to leave.
And as I turn around the corner, she oinks.
Her heart longs for me
to return.
And I do.