Willcox Elliott

Smooth palms, 
long fingers,
etched lines,
blistered skin,
all form the human hand.

They pluck and they point,
write and draw,
throw and catch,
bake and cook,
of course 

Humidity.
It makes clothes stick to your back,
like a moth to light.
It makes you feel as if you've just run a mile,
while you've only walked to the kitchen & back.
When you're either sweating or panting

The still air, motionless without wind,
Mosquitoes buzzing around my head,
The slight rustle of people's footsteps,
& the quiet chirp of a songbird.

Dry beech leaves cover the forest floor,

The rain slashing against the windows,
The rumble of thunder,
The crack of lightning,
Wash together to create a brilliant and magical storm.

We're all together in our classroom
Some playing games,
A few relaxing,

War has destroyed the world.
It has torn people apart, brutally dragging them to the depths of death.
An iron fist bearing destruction.
You find war in the morning,
When you unsuspectingly wake up

I gaze quietly out the window,
The pinks, oranges, and reds blend.
Their colors mix like they were painted with an artist's brush.
The golden light of the fading sun
Bounces off of a paper birch