week15-08

NEXT DEADLINE: General. Send in your best work – poems, short stories, essays. (Feel free to do it throughout the year, but this gives you a deadline.) Deadline: Jan. 9.

WEEK 15

This week: The Number Three and Surviving the 1927 Flood.Student content published on Tuesday in Brattleboro Reformer, Times Argus, Rutland Herald and The Valley News and Tuesday and Thursday in The Burlington Free Press. Click image on left to see or download the Rutland Herald page as a pdf.

Click for the Brattleboro Reformer or Times Argus versions.

Index of past weeks' pages.

This week's student writing: The Flood and The Number 3

This is a picture of downtown Barre in November, 1927 shortly after the great flood. Picture courtesy of the Vermont Historical Society.

Three

By Nicole LeBlond
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

To Survive

By Moya Cavanagh
Browns River Middle School, Grade 8

It has been
Said,
All too often,
“When hell freezes over,”
What about
When hell runs in rivers
When it breaks the dams and brings avalanches
Of water in walls and blockades
With tearing destructive power
Hurling the anchors of civilization
Away for something else…

Just the Three of Us

By Matteo Björnsson
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

It’s always been
Just the three of us
Through all the years
Of our lives
Brothers, sisters,
Siblings.
Although we are each other’s
Greatest annoyance,
We also hold each other’s
Greatest trust.
A bond that cannot be broken

Triplet Mood (three sets of three)

By Molly Pekarik
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 11

tired perhaps
but satisfied
dwelling in the past

there is no moon outside
yet i see a light
your face reflected in the glass

a moment passed
someones life just changed
i wonder if its mine

Three

By Bailey Walker
Home School, Grade 8

Three, standing.
Three, laughing.
Three, crying.

Three of us,
United by bonds
Of family.

Together, we
Support each other
With love.

Three.
A triangle,
A perfect
Shape.
We are
Bonded,
Forever,
Through anything.

Three, joking.
Three, playing.
Three, hugging.

We are
Connected in
Such a way
That no matter

Surviving the Flood

By Hannah Domas
Rochester High School, Grade 9

People mill about,
in small clumps or pairs.
They look at their ruined town,
looking lost.
Their feet splash in puddles
that almost drown the street.
Some buildings still stand,
others are smashed,
their walls to weak.
Rubble lines the sidewalks,
pieces of once grand houses.
Limbs of trees have fallen,

The Flood

By Paul Detzer
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Broken towers,
Shattered trees,
No more flowers,
Flooded streets.

All this chaos
Mashed in one.
No one’s boss,
It’s no fun.

Nothing good
Comes from this flood.
Misunderstood,
In cold blood.

There’s no sound,
There’s nothing to eat.
We lie around
On the street.

The Flood

By Alicia Cerasoli
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I lay.
A group of three huddled women walk by.
They stop.
Gazing at the destroyed buildings,
Pondering over me lying there.
“Oh, why?” One bursts out crying.
“Why us?”
I get asked that a lot lately.
I couldn’t help it though.
I couldn’t really.
A man walks down the street,
Stopping.

Flood

By Mindy Yeung
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Click.
The camera flashes.

Through the lens you can see water surrounding buildings,
Like blue surrounding the stars on the American flag.

Such dread and dreariness fill the motionless picture.
The gloomy people walk through it all,
As if they don’t care what happens to their unprotected earth.

Three

By Jen Latvis
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Having three people
Hangout together
Never works.

One person always
Excludes themselves
OR
The other two
Exclude the lonely third-wheeler
But three…
Never works.

That’s why it’s impossible for three.
That’s why it’s just you and me.

1927 Flood

By Shelby Yee
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Gust after gust,
Drop after drop,
That was only the beginning.
Pressure among my feet,
If only I could move.
Find a better place to be.

The ground is getting softer,
I feel as if I’m drowning.
I’m shivering around my arms,
My clothes have gotten stolen.
Jack Frost has come around,
I am slowly suffering.

Flood

By Tucker Stone
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Rain

By Emily Fariel
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

Rain.
Keeping me awake all night.
Must only be two in the morning.
Looking out the window from my second floor bedroom,
but it's too late.
My parents still asleep,
In the room next to mine.
The whole town still asleep.
I hear a sound,
and my house welcomes the water.

Three, Three, Three

By Kacie Collins
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Three rings of the school Bell
Three O’clock in the afternoon
Three minutes to run to the bus
Three, Three, Three
And then I am free.

Survivors

By Nina McCarthy
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Hand in Hand they rose
Fighting the flood when it flowed
Together, not alone

Three

By Kasia Wright
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

By Corey Richardson
Lebanon High School, Grade 12

Three columns, three rows, of
Marching soldiers, ready for the battle next,
Keeping up moral, singing a marching tune
Keeping the steep set for them.

Waiting, watching for the coming of their enemy
Resting, marching and prepared to fight.
The enemy is here, giving them a good fight.
The battle is over, enemy was vanquished.

Three
By Jane Baker
Charlotte Central School, Grade 6

The Flood

By Sean Bjornsson
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Mmm, rain
Soft, pleasant noise on the windows
Really raining hard now
It’s warm and cozy in here
Wake up, sirens
What’s going on?
Run downstairs
Water on the floor
“Get your shoes on!!”
Out into the cold
Out into the wind
Wading through the water
Water everywhere

Three

By Catherine Ingemi
Rochester High School, Grade 10

Three years,
Three months,
Three hours later…

Three o’clock in the morning,
and the pain is still here.
I can feel every scar burning.

Three years,
Three months,
Three hours later…

Three o’clock in the morning,
and the tears are still pouring.
I can feel every droplet still on my cheeks.

Three years,

Three Deer

By Mariah Hill
Charlotte Central School, Grade 8

Three

By Jessy Davenport
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Three
Third time’s a charm
Good things come in threes
Twos company, but threes a crowd
A third wheel
An odd number
Awkward, uncomfortable, left out, embarrassment
Insecure, self-conscious, singled out, alone
Nothing comes in packs of three, or makes room for that extra person
Three can be as bad as one

Surviving

By Oliver Manning
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

Scrambling to get the cows out
Unbelievable flames, high and bright
Round the corner a line of fire trucks
Vain bulging when I heard the bellowing of trapped cows
Internally scarred, externally scarred
“Volunteer or paid, all came to try and save the day,” my grandpa said about the firefighters
Intimidating flames

Why the Number Three?

By Celsey Lumbra
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

Why the number three in many fairytales?
Why three characters that always prevail?
Three little pigs, three houses were made,
Built of three things, one of which outweighed.

Next comes the three little bears who were robbed,
A girl, who was caught, cried and then sobbed.

The Flood

By Halley Petersen
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

The rain pours down
Outside my window
Pattering on the metal roof
Plinking and clanging
Its own unique song
Soon increasing to a roar

The rain continues to fall
I can see the river rising
Seeing the inevitable flood
But at the same time
There’s nothing I can do
Except go along for the ride.

Three Haiku

By Allison Getz
Oxbow High School, Grade 10

Nature:

It is Winter now
It is getting much colder
Soon, the world will rest

School:

Noisy, loud, boring
Noisy is the loudness that
bores me to my death

Vermont:

Beautiful nature
Green mountains high above us
Alone in the world

The Flood

By Patrick Clark
Dummerston Middle School, Grade 8

the flood
it came quickly
quietly
unnoticed
crashing
splashing
sweeping everything down the drain
gone forever
silence

Our Group of Three

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

My friends and I are always in groups of three.
And that’s probably how it will always be.

There used to be four for a little bit,
And we miss our friend, I have to admit.

He moved 3000 miles away,
That’s 33 hours if you travel by day.

But now we are back to three again,
Just like we have always been.