A Project of San Francisco Poet Laureate devorah major
Anna and Kum Ho Jo, 4th graders in San Francisco
A Long Story by Anna
A beam of light creeps over the grass,
lighting up the air and glistening on dew
drops. It creeps up the stem, shining on my
mothers and fathers, the petals.
They fall, meaningless.
The sun is blocked with storm
clouds. Wind catches in the white tails of me and
my siblings. They rise into the air. There goes
Lilly, Henry, Victoria, Jared, Mary, Joyce Ann,
Zack, Joseph, Jason, Harold, and Carrie. They
all catch into the churning, twisted wind.
Then me.
I swirl through the clouds, dodging
the mindless raindrops. The soggy valley spreads
out beneath me, and it seems to shiver. Like a
green blanket on a clothesline, swaying in
the breeze. Then it falls off the line, and
dissolves into white as I rise to the clouds. I see
cities, humans, houses. One light peach house falls
behind me, as I land on its lawn. I bury myself in
the dirt, beneath the grass.
I begin to sprout.
Lines for autumn by Kum Ho Joe
I go under the walnuts that will
last forever in the heat of my
stormy hands.
I go under the seedpod that lasts in the
orange night of the orange candle.
I go under an orchestra as I run out
of patient waiting in the orange night.
I take turns for the walnuts that will
last evermore.
I will go into the light of the
orange candle and winter begins.
|
