Closet

Closet of Colors

By Sarah Kendrick
Brattleboro Area Middle School, Grade 7

Open my closet
Red at the front
Leading the line of clothes
A rainbow looking up at me
Red, orange, yellow, green
Stripes, dots, and hearts
Blue, purple, pink
Arranged behind my closet door
A shower of colors parade in a line
Red at the front
Black, white, grey at the end
Hiding behind
Waiting to charge

Time to clean out the closet
I’ve been looking for that shirt
A book
A random shoe
A sock or two
A dollar!
A little ball
Boxes full of storage
Dishes
Kindergarten drawings
Memories
Photos
And the list goes on…

Small Space, Big things

I pull open the door and what do I see
But pieces of myself staring back at me
Dresses of all sorts hang upon themselves
Stuffed bears and pillows are nestled on shelves
I peak to the right and painted on the wall
Is an image of a place that I once saw
The ocean waves crash and a palm tree looms
white sand is below and small flowers bloom

I woke up this morning thinking, “Yes, it’s Christmas!” I looked out my window and everything was covered in white fluffy snow. I looked at my closet door. It was brown with white trim and a gold door knob. My closet door looked so peaceful in the light. I look at my clock, only eight; my parents wouldn’t even be up this early. I silently got out of bed and opened my door.

Prompt 12
Closet
Matt Eaton
English
11/27/07

.
Creaky door opens slowly,
Dust falls from
Long forgotten places.
Sometimes I wonder
What clutter used to
Lay discarded in this
Old room.

In some cases a closet will be littered with everything under the sun: that shoe that never found its pair, the jump rope that has remained in its same place for years because its owner has long out grown such childish toys, scattered clothing, shelves cramped with markers, rulers, school supplies galore...

Closets

By Rebecca Valley
St. Albans Town Educational Center, Grade 8

I hear them
Yelling.
I hear them
Through
The sheetrock
And chipping paint
And doors
Of heavy wood.
I hear them
Through my hands
And my pillows
And my heaviest blankets.

But in the closet
I enter a world
Of darkness
Where my parents
And my friends
And my pillows
And blankets

I hear them
Yelling.
I hear them
Through
The sheetrock
And chipping paint
And doors
Of heavy wood.
I hear them
Through my hands
And my pillows
And my heaviest blankets.

But in the closet
I enter a world
Of darkness
Where my parents
And my friends
And my pillows
And blankets
Don’t exist anymore.
My world
Of silence.