SEASONSPOETRY INSPIRED bythe intersections of WEATHER and FEELING

by SIXTH GRADE STUDENTS at GREENS FARMS ACADEMY

INTRODUCTION Several weeks ago, the Greens Farms Academy sixth grade had the opportunity to welcome Susan Buttenwieser from the Teachers & Writers Collaborative in New York City. Susan spent two days working with sixth grade classes on writing poetry. The poems collected in this book reflect one of the assignments she asked the students to complete. Susan began by asking students to brainstorm a list that paired weather and emotions. Then, using a Naomi Shihab Nye poem as a guide, she asked students to write poems in which they used weather as a way to reflect feelings and emotions. These poems are the result. Another book of poems based on Susan’s second assignment can be found at http://www.issuu.com/gfams. Benjamin Gott Sixth Grade Teacher Greens Farms Academy http://www.gfacademy.org http://www.writingattheforum.org

“THE BLUES” I trudge out into the rain, aware that I would go anywhere in order to escape the blues of my house. Anger wells up inside of me, like the tears in my eyes. My emotions don’t know how to escape, like puppies in a kennel. I let them run wild. My brother runs outside after me. “I didn’t mean to! Okay, I’m sorry!” he says to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” I say to him I get that he’s sorry. We both were the second we did it. But the tide of emotions keeps flowing; the waves keep crashing on the beach. I decide to run. I run to the bottom of the yard. I shout and yell and run until it’s low tide again like it was early that morning. I walk back up the hill and into the house. —Isabella W. “WALKING IN THE COLD” It is winter, and the snow has fallen. The snow melts and the sun starts to take over. It is spring. When the summer comes, the sun grows larger and more powerful. The trees shed their leaves. The fall has weakened the sun. I find myself walking in the cold. —Jake R.

“THE RAIN” When I wake up, I can hear taps. Someone is knocking for me. I rush to the window and see the pellets of rain fog up my window. I feel comfort and joy. I wrap a blanket tight around me then walk down the stairs quietly. No one else is awake. I sit outside on my covered porch and listen. My dog trots up to me, and I put her on my lap. I know that the rain will end soon, but for now I sit and listen to the pellets hit the ground. Everything is still. I feel as if I am the only person awake in the entire world. But then my brother sits next to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. I turn around to see him, but when I look back, he has already gone inside. No one loves the rain like I do. No one. —Charlie T.

Hand in hand, we walked past the fountain we had seen a million times. But today was different. This time was the last. The harsh thunder pounded in our ears and drove home the consequences of what we were doing. The raging lightning caused me to be impulsive— to take a risk— and now there was no second-guessing it. He stared out at the storm as he choked back tears and tried to keep a straight face, but I knew he trusted me. At least he did before. We continued to walk, our spongy wet boots weighing us down with regret. To the cars passing by, it was just another walk in the park. -Lil B. “SEASON CYCLE” The sky was sunny. It felt like a never-ending day of fun and everlasting joy. But tomorrow, it will be snowing. The joy of spring and summer will end and the animals will hibernate, along with the plants and the trees. But spring will come, and it will seem like nothing has changed. In summer, we will rejoice in the new beginning. When fall arrives again, the animals will prepare to find shelter as the trees protect the flowers from the sun like warriors protecting a city from an invasion. Then winter begins, and death washes over everything. Only the strong will survive until the spring arrives again and the plants and animals rebuild from the devastation. —Michael P.

Slowly, the clouds expanded over the once ocean-blue sky. Colorful nature struggled to fight back against the hatred of winter. Leaves that had already fallen shriveled up like prunes. Slowly, the snow bit into the trees as if it were an apple, turning the bark hard and brittle. The trees, like a black and white movie, darkened in color as small flakes drifted like a million parachutes in the dreary sky. Slowly, like the covers on a bed, snow filled the dull outside with a blank sheet. Eventually, the vicious snow, like clouds of arrows shot by bows from a distance, stopped, and everything was still. Slowly, the snow melted like butter in a frying pan. The clouds began to separate and formed their regular pillow shape. Finally, when that brave tree grew its first leaf, there was hope. After all those nights of cold, dead sorrow, the war had ended. Life had returned. —Gerrit P.

“LIGHTNING” I look at the white strikes of light in the sky as I sit on my windowsill. I am curious but also nervous, because now I know why my parents won’t let me go outside right now. They would not want me to be bitten by one of the white snakes lingering in the sky, as they wait for the right moment to come out of their cloud dens and pierce the earth with their electric venom. I can see the crooked bones falling from the clouds, thrown by those who made them angry. The bones cut through the sky like a knife through butter, and land on Earth with a thud. I can make out falling droplets that land on the blades of grass and quench their thirst. While the clouds move away, a arc of color begins to form. A sphere of light dispels the darkness. I can finally see the ocean above. —Ethan P.

“TOO EASY” Our mothers were smiling, telling us not to give up. The sun was sparkling, pushing me to reach the top. I smiled at my best friend. It was hot today. It felt like I was being cooked into a frying pan. This would be easy. I fumbled with my grip on the handhold. The hot smell of sweat filled my lungs. I smiled weakly at my mom. She looked up at me and smiled back. My feet slipped, and I quickly grabbed on with both of my hands. That was a good one, I thought to myself I looked to my left to see my friend, who was trying to fumble like I had done. We reached the top and looked down. It was too easy. My friend smiled at me. We shared things that no one else new. “That was a tough one,” my mom said when we came back down. “Yes,” I replied. It was almost too easy. —Bryn M.

“THE MONSTER” My dog hid under the bed. The loudness howled in my ears like an enormous rock hitting the ground. Boom! it went again. I heard my dog whine. I looked at him; he was shaking. It wasn’t even cold. There it was again: Boom! My ears were crying, “Get me out, Get me out!” My dog would not stop. I ran to my parents’ room. “Help!” My parents would not budge. There’s a monster outside! There’s a monster! They didn’t believe me. I shook them and I yelled, but the only one who could hear was my dog whining under the bed. I couldn’t take it. Soon enough, I was under that bed too, shaking and whining. What was that sound? I clapped my hands together to see if I could stop it. I yelled and shook and cried and looked. My dog and I lay still, shaking more than ever. What could it be? We still didn’t know. Suddenly, I felt the outside calm, then I heard it end. My dog stopped shivering. Still under the bed, I fell back asleep. -Madison M.

“THE NEXT TIME I’M HERE” The next time I’m here, I’ll be a different person: grown-up, fresh, mature with different experiences— new people in my life— more adventures to share. My cloudy sadness will be gone, and I can return to where I belong. But nothing can last forever, and soon my time here will turn into a misty memory that floats around in the atmosphere. -Nikki G. “THE SAME AS YESTERDAY” The snow, just like a cloud, but only on the ground and spreading to the earth with cold, fear, regret. It reminds me of earlier days; of days when the warm light would sink into the earth’s silky green grass. These were my favorite days, when we never imagined anything like now. But now, the days are short and the memories are bleak. Nothing can bring back those days but hope: the hope that tomorrow will be the same as yesterday. -Coco F.

“THE SNOW FALLS OUTSIDE” The rush of the town fills my ears like the roar of a lion. While a single flake falls, the world becomes quiet like a kite in the wind. Everything happens so slowly like a stopped clock as a blanket of snow covers my yard. The strong breeze slaps my face as I stuff my hands deep in my pockets. Maybe I will find treasure if I dig far enough. The evening sky becomes darker and I know this peaceful day is ending. When I walk inside, the warmth is comforting and sweet. The snow outside still falls as I drift off to sleep. -Caitlin E.

“INVISIBLE IN THE WAVES” First day back on the bright blue floor. I feel trapped in the waves of loneliness. My nerves overwhelm me. It feels like a tsunami is stinging my throat as I gulp down a gallon of salt water. stinging your throat and lungs. The burning in my throat makes me want to cry. No one wonders about the tall girl who is way too old to be in this class. She’s standing awkwardly in her own little canoe, too shy to mingle with the other people on the party boats. It’s just me. All the other girls fly over the waves like Olympic swimmers. But I can’t, so I’m alone. —Maya E. “LAZY” I get up out of my bed and put on my clothes for school. As I look out the window, for the first time that morning, I see a sheet of fog covering the glass. I groan and immediately jump back into the warmth of my bed. “BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!” My alarm clock screams in my ears and I groan again as I realize that my laziness will have to wait until after school. —Thomas B.

“CLOSE” I run through the rough path of trees and the thickly-woven quilt of grass to get to my house. The hail beats down on me, my arms covered in angry red splotches where the vanilla-pudding color was not even ten minutes ago. Still, I run. The owls have stopped chatting, but the other birds still gossip. My hair gets wet, and, as my ponytail swings back and forth like a pendulum, water slaps across my back and shoulders and neck. I can almost see my house now; I can almost see the red roof and yellow walls. My nose seems to be working overtime— it smells like summer and grass—but I don’t stop. I run faster. I accidently spook a herd deer that had been lounging in a patch of grass. It makes me wonder if they could feel the pounding little pebbles from the sky, too. My hair is now whipping around my neck, reaching my cheeks, which turn red too. I can smell the hot chocolate. I am close now— closer than I was, but not as close as I will be. —Alida D. “SNOW STORM” Snow storm: sad and scary. Trees down. Family sad, dog sad. Stay warm using fires and coats. Dog cold, snuggling for warmth. Snowy house with no heat. Snow means the sky is disappointed. Snow storm over. Power back on. Snow blanket still on the ground and covering the trees. Now it’s time for fun and happiness. —Elliot K.

“EVERYTHING FADES” The heat of the sun melts my ice cream cone. As it drips down my hand, I take my last lick. I run to the warm sand while the water calls out my name. “Mairead, Mairead!” I jump into the water. The heat immediately disappears. In its place, I feel a cool, rainy storm. The water tingles, giving me a brain freeze. I feel like I am trapped in a giant ice cube. I climb up to the swim dock. The sun shines down on me, bringing me warmth. Happiness and comfort fills my body, I feel like I just survived a big storm and am finally free. I lift my arms up to the shining sun. It worships me with respect and hospitality. My eyes open, and I feel the brightness around me. Everything fades into a cloud. —Mairead C. “WINTER STORM” Waves thrash against the barrier like an angry spirit that tries to break free. White caps froth on top of each wave— the snow peak of a mountain. The ocean mimics the sky, a somber gray. Clouds are whisked into the blue. One lone boat sails solemnly toward the horizon. The waves of rage churn the boat as if to warn it not to keep on moving. Yet it does. —Julia E.

“THOSE TORTUROUS DAYS” Those torturous days when you step outside and don’t hear a thing. It feels like all life around you is dead. You are trapped in the middle of nowhere, alone in a forest the size of the world. You wait for the sound of birds to wake you up in the morning. You come home from school and you’re able to go outside. You don’t feel trapped anymore. You wait for the moment that everything becomes loud, like an orchestra with thousands of people. The adults talk as the kids play outside, having the time of their lives. The evil cold has gone. Something else is to come. —Charlotte C.

“RAGING THUNDER” The sparse water in the air blocks off the sun creating white, fluffy drawings above and swirling around me. It’s a relaxing sight. But still, I recognize the formations of darkness. The clouds are creating the sinister war like a gentle king creating his evil empire The gray clouds clash together like giants in intense combat. I hear their maces parry, creating a waterfall that sprinkles down on us and drenches the cold, hard ground. A bright arrow charges down faster than anything I have seen like a viper charging a bite at its prey. I hide from the chaos in my home. I am safe from the sky. It will always be a mirror image of the human race. The war still rages. —Ethan F.

“RAINBOW” Beams of light peek through the heavy, dark clouds. I am soaking wet with sighs. The sun isn’t fully out yet, and the water has pulled a blanket over everything. The clouds still look ominous as they cover up the vibrant sun, but they spread as I climb the white mountain. Others say it will be fine as I reach the top. I worry that the clouds will cry rain. As I rush down the hill, it does rain, but I am a bundle of light that burns the sky and threatens the clouds. The color shoots across the sky and across my face. -Sean H.

In the courtyard outside the great grey walls, the wind blows, the wind blows. Outside the gate, I stare at the cobblestone clearing here for so long with cars on top of it— how unfitting. I climb up the wall as I look for a view that stretches further on just to feel that the wind blows, the wind blows. I wait, I wait a while while I wait, the wind blows, the wind blows at me alone No sound but the whoosh, no feel but the cold, no thought but to leave, Nothing happens except the wind blows, the wind blows. —William S.

“LIGHT BOOMS” The house shakes. With my stuffed animals close, I whisper to my sister and stare out the window. I tremble at the boom, but I have owl eyes when I see the light. It flickers out of the dark night. It is a piece of art. I move to the other side of the bed in astonishment and watch the light blink through the trees with the stars. My bed rattles from the bang again. I slide under my covers, all tucked in. I do not want to run to my parents. Instead, I think about the fight between nature that is going on outside. Light against dark. Beauty against fear. I fall asleep and everything is dark and silent for the rest of the night— according to me. —Morgan B.

“RAIN” She lays eyes on her reflection in the window. The pitter-patter of the rain excites her. She wants to go outside, but she resists. Everything is quiet, even still, except for the drops of rain knocking on the window. She makes up her mind and calls for her dog. They run outside together. It is all the girl wants: just a little fun. She doesn’t care what her parents will say when she walks through the door soaking wet and with mud stains on her new jeans. She’s now frightened to go back in; afraid of what will come out of her parents’ mouths. Her dog is as happy as can be because nothing will happen to him. She ignores her thoughts and walks through the door, her heart beating fast, and her parents nowhere to be found. She unties her shoes and runs up the stairs to lock the door. She’s safe. The girl falls into bed. Her fear is overcome. There is nothing to worry about. —Allie A.

“THE WALK” I walk out into the screaming wind, almost blown off my feet. I shelter myself behind a bush and get ready to run. My dog pulls me forward. He is much stronger than I am. He pulls me through the wind. I struggle to walk. I hear a snap from behind as a large branch falls. I pull him forward, but he is eager to explore. I try to pull us out from under the trees. I am worried. I fall back as a large, frightening branch falls just in front. I race to escape the cloud of trees and finally get to the open road where we are safe. We walk down the road. Snap! Bang! I hear more large branches fall from the trees. We run, faster than the wind, until we finally make it home We get inside. Both of us are panting, I jump on the couch and wait while my dog smiles at me. He just had the best walk ever. —Luke H.

“WHY ME?” He trudged outside of the house from which he was exiled. He looked at the sky. Cloudy. Rainy. As if Mother Nature had seen the fight. Occasionally, light would peek out and see the Earth only to be thrown back inside of the protection of the gray, ominous clouds. Peace, like light, would soon be crushed by bitter hate. At first, it was sunny. So was his family. Then the clouds, filled with water, burst. His parents, filled with hate, would burst too in a shower of resentment. The boy skulks outside and looks at the flying silhouettes of furniture. He hears the screams and yells inside his home. He thinks: Why me? —Patrick H.

“AFTER THE FOG” I push through the fog with its shadowy darkness that blocks the sight of anything for miles. I see the wispy shadows that hide secrets only it knows. I search for my brother who I had lost in the fog; for the face that had grown up by my side. But I cannot not see him. I try to peer through the fog. Where has he gone? Was he ever going to back to me? I try to remember the time before the fog; before the disease that tore up his insides away bit by bit; before the thing turned him into something else other than my brother. Where did you take him? I shout at the fog. Is he safe now? Will you take care of him? I hope he misses me like I miss him. —Grace M.

Thunder crashes. The young girl cringes. As she reaches for her pillow, she hides, pleading for it to go away and wishing she will fall into a happier world— a world with no worries. Lighting strikes next. Deeper under the pillow she hides. She grabs the small stuffed animal next to her: a bunny rabbit. She finally begins to relax. She feels safe with the toy. Comfortable, even. She begins to dream happy thoughts. She falls slowly to sleep Her worries fade, like a pencil erasing its markings. —Alex N. “RAIN” Many people think rain is sad, but I think it’s great. Rain is the freedom to run around without worrying if your clothes are wet. Rain is the feeling that you want to break something expensive. Rain is the gateway to a free mind; a free body; a free world. —Ethan P.

I sit and watch the flowers pop, the birds sing, and the kids play. I sit and watch as winter fades throughout the day. Then something pulls me up again, something I have not remembered for a long, long while. Suddenly, you see me with a brand-new smile. I sit and watch the days grow long, the sweat drenched out on the lawn. I sit and watch spring leave without another word. When have I been better? Summer’s always great, but why? Why must I have spring trapped in my mind? I sit and watch my breath fog up and then turn red. I sit and watch as summer goes to bed. But when the leaves will crunch, I forget those last three months. I’m ready to move on. I sit and watch the days go by; watch the snow fall white. I sit and watch holidays go past. Once everybody’s joy is gone, mine comes back. But I’m back— and so is spring. —Thea C.