week17-08

This photograph is by Amy Coleman, a student at Essex High School. Here is how she describes her work: “My theme is ‘memories.’ This shows black and white pictures of something a little depressing or not that special, but then I add color to a specific part of it that adds meaning. This is only my second time using digital, but I think it's going well. I like the effect of the color in just one spot of the pictures.”
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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

By Rebecca White
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I remember the sounds of crying children and women screaming at their husbands. Parked car alarms barking down the street with ear bleeding capacity. The smell of gasoline along with the ever present food rot stench burned my nostrils. I had never taken notice of these common things, thought that everywhere was like this place. Just like a mouse born and raised in box wouldn’t think there was another place beside the box itself.

Kitten

By Shara James
Benson Village School, Grade 7

The Closet

By Patric Roberts
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 7

In my own opinion, I don’t like to go in my closet. It’s not because it is a mess or there is a monster. Well, actually, there is sort of a monster. It’s my imaginary friend from when I was three. All my other imaginary friends disappeared, but this one is persistent.

Closet Case

By Justinah Duhaime
Hartford High School, Grade 12

The rising sun shuffles his way
through the mist,
his thin blades of light search like a
turtle, in
and out of the cracks of my closet
door. I flinch,

a solitary blade slashes my eye,
illuminating
swollen tears before i once again
recoil to the
flightless feathers of my raven hair.
With my nails
scraping over my lap, I rock back
and forth like
the winter trees, shackled in needles
of ice that
scratch the pane of my window.

Both of us, so desperate to be free, to
no longer be
rooted to a speechless earth, seeing
our words
circle away like the leaves that die at
our feet.

Slowly, we reach out towards the
sun: opening the
closet door, shaking off the snow.
We cannot bare
the silence any longer. The world
will hear my
song, for I am a bird, towering
above the leaves.

By Heidi Keller
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

In a closet is where I’ll be,
The outside world just isn’t for me .
The enclosed space is where I hide,
My family just pretends I died.

By Miranda Shepard
Rochester High School, Grade 9

My imaginary closet,
Is always very clean,
The carpet is made of white shag,
The walls are painted bright green.

It’s big enough to hold a football stadium,
But instead, clothes fill the room,
The lightings brightness is nearly blinding,
The smell always-sweet perfume.

It holds millions of dollars worth of jeans,
Mom says “way to many shirts,”
Countless numbers of pullovers,
And endless amount of skirts.

Shoes to match every outfit,
Many different color tank tops,
All sorts of leggings,
Most all from different shops.

There are many nice things to wear,
Everything a teenage girl has been wanting,
So many outfits to choose from,
The choices are nearly daunting.

There’s V-necks and turtlenecks,
A lot of colors in the same sweater,
Because of the price this closet costs,
My mom thinks drawers are better.

My Closet

By Mary Kate Clark
Monkton Central School, Grade 5

I opened my closet door. Colors spring out of the closet and into my eyes. Colors and things everywhere. I closed my eyes and smelled the musty smell of the closet.

My Closet

By Eliza Letourneau
Monkton Central School, Grade 5

When I look into my closet I see many parts of me. It is filled with memories and junk. I love looking into my closet and seeing everything. It is a jumble of parts of my life.
When I look on the floor I see many parts of me. I see three suitcases (mine and my brother Andre’s) and I think of all the trips we’ve been on. Also on the floor I see an old rubber backpack I used to use with my sister when we played together. Then I see a set of three drawers. Inside of them are old toys such as Fashion Polly’s. Then I see mounds of boxes filled with my summer clothes.
Hanging on the first rack are my skirts and a few fancy shirts. Some of the skirts were my sister Kristi’s. They remind me of all the Christmas concerts that we’ve had at Mt. Abe. Also there are a few empty hangers that will be filled at some point. There are a couple fancy jackets too.
On the second rack there are more clothes. There are all the dresses that I own and mostly never wear. Also there are a few dresses of my mom’s and some of Andre’s old suits. Then there is an old clown suit my mom wore for Halloween a long time ago. It has a colorful wig that goes with it.
This is what I see when I look into my closet. It is all part of what I am and it makes me smile sometimes to look into my closet.

Closet Full of Memories

By Celsey Lumbra
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

As I see what I shall wear today,
I gaze at all the junk.
Crammed along the middle shelf
are clothes that must have shrunk.

Clothes that were in style then,
But are now so yesterday.
For now they must rest in peace,
Until they come back “in” someday.

On the very, very top shelf,
Are games and puzzles galore.
I played with them maybe once,
Before they were ignored.

These toys are more of memories,
Rather than things to entertain.
For when I look at them all,
I replay the day in my brain.

Like my wheel heel shoes,
When dad made me wear a helmet.
I was too embarrassed to wheel around,
Back in the closet they went.

Or that pink hat I had to have,
I haven’t worn it twice.
Now it’s used for dress-up,
A useless piece of merchandise.

So my closet is filled with mostly memories,
Built up from many years past.
I barely have room for all my clothes,
For it is filling up fast.

Monster in the Closet

By Dustin Finer
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

In the dark depth of my closets I sometimes see glowing eyes. If I listen closely, late at night, there is a faint growling mumble under my laundry pile. In the back corner of my closet, behind the old posters and projects long forgotten, a monster waits.

Epiphany

By Shannon Page
Oxbow High School, Grade 10

When you think you know something but aren't quite sure, everything can become clear to you in just one moment. When a problem has been eating at you for five whole months it can disappear in just one quick moment. Sometimes you may not even know that the moment ever even occurred. Sometimes it happens when you least expect it. Maybe your problem is that you love someone with what you claim is all your heart. Maybe, though, you aren't quite sure. Maybe there's that small voice in your head and when you say ' I love you' and he asks ' Do you?' the voice tells you no. Maybe you keep the voice quiet, ignore it. Maybe that just doesn't work. Until finally things start building up. Until finally you realize what has been bothering you all along. Until finally, you're left fighting with the love of your life in a tiny trailer bathroom. Until that thing that's been bugging you come out. Then finally the tears start falling. Then finally, words that maybe you didn't mean to say come out. Then finally, somewhere between all the tears and all the truth, something changes. It's not really obvious what made that moment happen. All that matters is that the moment was there. All that matters is that when he says 'Do you?' you can look at him and smile and with no voice in your head, say yes.

My Closet

By Chloe Dickinson
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Little tufts of hair peeking around the corner
A dark mysterious cave on the other side,
One hand reaches in, dreading what could grab it
Suspense grows until finally a thread of hope is found!

A little string hanging from ceiling pulled
And light floods the Closet.
One small step forward

Late

By Bridget Iverson
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 9

By Maddie Gilbert
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

As I get out
Of the pool
People surround
Me.
And my friend
Hugs
Me
While teammates
Smile at
Me
And
Offer
Congratulations.

The Hospital

By Lauren Pratt
Rochester High School, Grade 9

As I sat in the waiting room, I couldn’t help but listen to what the doctors were saying to each other. You see, my grandpa, while cutting kindling, had put his hand through the table saw.

African Safari

By Halley Petersen
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Awake with the sun
Ready to go
Perch on the edge of the seat
As gravel rumbles beneath

Search the bushveld
For any sign of life
A lion, a zebra
A rhino, an elephant

Drive along
The plains spread beneath
A view to steal your breath
A day to fill your thoughts and dreams

Elephants a hands breadth away
Lions to close for comfort
The African sun warming the brush
And the back of your head

Birds flit by
Singing their songs
To land on rhinos backs
As if it’s nothing new

A day has passed
While you were in the wild
Enjoying the sights
And the sounds

Now the sun sets
Burning the sky
With oranges and reds
Cooling to pinks and purples

The moon soon rises to its peak
The stars follow suit
And blanket the sky
This is the true essence
of Africa.

Do You Remember?

By Sarah Levine
The Grammar School, Grade 8

I am small
and you are big
and powerful
but bigger isn't always
better
some man with knowing blue eyes
taught me that
I miss the grass
whispering sweet nothings in the warm August wind
calling out
to insects, couples, and human feet
back then we were equal
I never thought of you
as something that I had to
form to
only as someone
who was to be loved
there are so many
so many
but I will find my way
through this labyrinth of loss
and come out on the other side
glowing.

Inside My Closet!

By Myah Purvis
Edmunds Elementary School, Grade 4

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

The Rush

By Seth Winslow
Brattleboro Area Middle School, Grade 8

I strap one foot into my snowboard
And push off with the other up to the lift
Getting ready for the ride up to the top of the mountain
I stand still while the lift comes around and picks me up

The farther up the mountain I go the colder it is
When I finally make it to the top
My heart is racing
My whole body is full of fun and excitement

I strap in my other foot
Straighten out my board
And begin to cruise down the mountain

I gradually pick up speed
The harsh wind gets stronger and stronger
The chilling breeze turns into a blistering wind
But I am having so much fun that it barely seems cold at all

When I am on the mountain
I get a feeling that I feel nowhere else
I feel free
My mind is clear of everyday thoughts

These sensations are like the perfect recipe
That has just the right amounts of each ingredient
A cup of focus
A tablespoon of independence
And a gallon of fun

I carve around the final bend on the edge of my board
To where the trail ends at the lodge
I whip around my board to stop
I have a feeling of accomplishment

I am proud of myself
But then there is a slight feeling of disappointment
Because I have made it back down to flat land
And can go no further

That feeling quickly goes away because I know
I can just go back up and rip it up
While I lose myself in that feeling of freedom

By Seth Winslow

Six

By Rafferty Parke
Stowe High School, Grade 11

It is midnight in June.

Six teenage girls sit on the edge of a lit pool, feet of various sizes and legs of various lengths dangling into the clear glowing water. Pajama bottoms are rolled up to the knees, and a blanket is draped across a few pairs of shoulders.

One turns to regard the rest, her thick blonde tresses flopping to one side. Their forms are darkly silhouetted, save for their faces which are illuminated in turquoise. They are laughing at a shared joke, each unique laugh resonating across the water to form a sort of haphazard harmony.

The blonde joins in, gasping for the cool summer air. Her stomach drops at the idea of leaving the others. She has half a summer of uncertainty ahead of her. As she would later realize, that half summer would be an unparalleled adventure that would open her up to new people, new places, and new sides of herself.
For now, though, she sits with these girls, her counterparts, her sisters. She listens as their voices fill the night, water splashing at their feet.

The Closet of Nightmares

By Louis Sullivan
Lyman C. Hunt Middle School

It’s there before me now; it waits for me; like the alligator waits for its prey. Only a few feet remain between me and my doom.
They said it had to be done; I had to clean out my closet. It won’t kill you, they said.