May 2012



Sarah Cyr, "Green Eyes"

The people pass by me and no one looks in my eyes

I understand why
No one looks at me the same anymore
My past changed me forever and I will never forget that
The past is the past
And the future is the future
I pull my hood over my face, feeling shameful
No one sees me, and I feel a strange presence
A presence I have never felt before
A presence I don’t like
A presence that I feel deep down in my gut
My pace quickens and I push past people
People that don’t realize my horrible, horrible past
And the many troubles ahead of me
I stop and stand like a stone pillar
Someone looks and I see the expression on their face
A face full of fear and sympathy
I look away with tears and run through the crowd blindly
I run to try and get away from the past

And I know I will not succeed
Because there is no way to escape the green eye

Sarah first wrote the poem, Green Eyes, which inspired a much longer piece of creative fiction. This is an excerpt from her story:

The moon shines down on the small town of Aquaignis.  Niaomee quietly strides down the cobblestone road while the moths flicker around the street lights.  The night is quiet and still, and the wind doesn’t blow, which pleases Niaomee.  No one else walks down the road and she looks at the darkened houses.  The town has changed over time and she can see the aging.  All these houses used to be bright and colorful, but when the war started, everything went dark.  But the war is over, with many lives lost, good and evil, and Niaomee feels alone once again.

Now years have passed by, Niaomee is a grown woman, and still avoiding everyone on The Flames side.  But it’s hard for her.  She’s different than most of the villagers.  It’s her face.  Her eyes.  Her one green eye and one brown eye.  When she was a little girl, her father was a wizard.  One day she drank a potion she thought was hemlock tea.  The next day, her eyes changed colors.  And the day after that that one green could see different things.  Strange things.



"At Night"

By: Isabel Bates

Still and silent
no movement except
the trees swaying
reaching
REACHING
out to you
like deranged hula dancers.
The darkness beckoning,
shadows slipping across the ground
free to roam
at night.
The house lights off
windows dark
the ocean inky black
at night.
Boats silent, but
wind whispering
softly laughing,
in your ear
boats
knocking against each other
in the stormy ocean,
waves splashing against their sides.
Absence of sound, just
the laughing wind
rushing water
bobbing boats
But even then
the noises of the dark
seem distant.
Everything is muted,
stifled
at night.



"Ode to my Family"

By: James Mitchell

Their presence frees me
Of all fears and worries
Lifting the forbidding presence
From my shoulders

Helping me when I am down
Lifting me off of the ground
Lightening the burden
Of all that I hold

Loving me
When no other will
Sustaining me
When the pressure bears too hard

Time and time again
Supporting me when
They themselves need it
Loving me as always

Giving me everything
But never taking for themselves
I can never give enough
To compensate for what I receive

My family is there for me
As I am for them
Loving helping and caring
That is what family is for.

James Mitchell, Portland, ME, Age 13