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Thu, June 27

Young poets blossom in PUSD anthology 'Harvest of Poetry'

• Wind: It moves the clouds, it spins the wheel, I love the way it makes me feel... It slides so smoothly across my face, it moves with such amazing grace, it runs through the field, it sings through the trees, how I love that Autumn breeze. – Sam Howden, fifth grade.

• The Earth: Crumbling, abandoned farms, Rivers dry as a bone, Forest now, just a big field of lost dreams, All mistakes of mankind ... We should stop with the bloody wars Over silly things, oil, land, When those beautiful resources aren't ours, Those are our children's, And their children's for centuries to come. Humans are self-centered, but things could change. Hopefully they will be enlightened and help save the Earth. – Kevin Carter, eighth grade.

• A Time for Prozac: I sit so sad and solemn, so very, very vicious, violent, raging, raving, rabid. In my mind massacres merge, While we work with what we have to tame, tire, tack, calm, cool, control our angry agitation. Anon all is settled. I sit so sad and solemn. So very, very settled, cool, tamed, controlled, tired. I sit so sad and solemn while we work for raving, Sit. Settled, settled, settled, I sit so sad. – Dani Gunnoe, 10th grade.

• This is I: This is I. In all my intrinsic beauty, and all my wretched disfigurement. This is who I am, and all that I could be. The self-contradicting algorithm for my life has left me the crippled embodiment of all my forlorn hopes...I wander through the void with no hope of a bright future. No chance of redemption or salvation. I have lived this day many times, and I will live it again. Tomorrow. – Sam Wheeler, 12th grade.

• Montezuma's Well: Birds circle the Verde south of Anasazi dwellings. My students eat their lunches. For a slender poetic-moment the wind silences the freeway and spins away the sprawl. Electric power towers run off like giant kachinas. The valley reappears unspoiled. A bus horn calls camera-clutching tourists, and they are gone. The moment is gone, but it is enough. The wind whirled away layers of importance to reveal a connection that suddenly wasn't so ancient. – Ron J. Cleary, teacher.

Contact Louise Koniarski at, or by phone at 445-8179 , ext. 2038.


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