Places, every one.
by Chase Reed
I like to run away a lot
I never listen to rules
I go swimming or jump in the mud
Or go on a walk in the forest
Whenever I want.
The Best Part
By Devon Dybedahl
The best part about the sand its
Are the boulders, berries and hills.
The boulders I would climb on day in and
day out. I would go to my secret raspberry bush
And eat until there’s no more red.
The hills of sand would shimmer
Because of all the different rocks.
I would ride up and down those hills on my quad
Shredding those rocks like carving wood.
By Jon Hosaluk
By Rylie Bjerklie
Paper is usually
White and boring.
Paper gets wrinkled
It will slice you
If it is mad.
By Charlene Grahn
Is the place my mother spent her past.
Such a beautiful surrounding scenery
Everywhere you go.
Friendly faces smile.
Nobody here needs money to make
The wind makes waves in the water.
The splashing of the sea against
The shore is satisfying.
Laughter of the lively children
Fills your ears.
Birds sing songs in the sky.
By Brock Byfuglien
I have felt so
Many hands in my lifetime.
My worst enemy is a
Bat that sends me
Flying into a soft outfield.
I have been in many kinds
of gloves. I hate bats but
gloves and I usually get along.
By Andrew Magnusson
The dog was yelling at the man to throw
The ball. Once he threw it across the road.
The dog was saying “I got it. I got it.” The dog was
Running but didn’t get what the man was saying
until he was on the road. The last words the dog said,
“I don’t like this game.”
By Lindsey Weber
I fall from the tallest tree
Onto the frosted ground.
I’m so light the wind picks me
Up and carries me around.
I feel brittle, like I could
By Matthew Larson
Home has a couch that
I an sit on and a TV
I can watch with my
Mom and dad and the
Rest of the family.
By Gracie Drown
Staring at the stars on a cold summer night
Laying in the grass that is damp from the dew
Being overwhelmed by how vast the universe is
But somehow it also makes you feel calm.
The cold breeze washes over me.
Smelling the cool crisp air and hearing the crickets chirp
As I look at constellations.
I Like Fishing
By Josh Kofstad
I like fishing. There are many ways to fish
And many species to fish for. You an do anything
from netting, trapping, using bows, to just regular
rod and reel fishing. There are so many species to fish for.
By Kilah LaPlante
The park is the place
Water washes our feet
After running in the river
And sliding down slides
Roasting rich marshmallows
On the burning bonfire.
In the woods working
Trails and climbing trees.
Smelling the sweet summer breeze.
The park is the place.
By Seraphina Johnstun
Its 4:15 p.m., in you come with the rest of your siblings.
Home from another long day of school.
You don’t even stop for a snack—you walk straight through the door and slide it closed.
Your backpack thuds on the ground, filled to bursting, with your homework, your exhaustion, your worries from another day.
You slide onto the creaky bench and simply sit for a moment.
Then your fingers come to attention.
And you begin to play.
A song you wrote yourself.
About your insecurities and sadness (though you don’t know it)
I hear your sigh and I know you’re done.
You leave me again.
But I know that some of your burden has been lifted.
By Tracey Meixner
Those few brief moments of quiet.
Quiet in a world of noise.
Awakening to the beauteous new world.
World of a brighter sun.
Sun that will share new memories
Whether happy, sad, or angry.
Memories are there to greet.
Greet you in your awakening.
By Kilah LaPlante
Golfing, the way of my life
On a wonderful summer day
Lovely breeze is wonderful
First and last holes are always the best.
By Brutus Grindahl
Home, it is like as peaceful
As the sky on a bright summer day.
It is like this relaxing place, almost like a dream.
Home is a secure place—almost like a safe.
Every home has a distinct smell like oranges do.
By Lee Campbell
Warm pancakes in the winter morning.
The dogs waking up now as well.
Letting them out in the snow to play.
Eating now and so are the dogs.
Out to split wood for the woodstove.
Now time to go fishing. Frigid cold
But the fish still hungry, furious to move so.
Too cold with the wild wind
We go back to the warm house.
By Gabrielle Johnson
There is a bumblebee mailbox next door
With a big German Shepherd.
Hearing Granny shuffling the floor.
You can see out in the yard.
There is a big eerie pond.
You can see all the birds.
They are Granny’s favorite to watch.
She will tell you all about them.
You get up and Granny is already up.
She is drinking her coffee in the a.m.
Don’t worry, she’s in bed by 5 o’clock.