Writing

Spotted, spoiled-milk; 

Look beyond these grimy walls

And see the horse tail

Brush into existence fierce vermillion stripes,

Goldenrod veins clambering upwards…

Fall. The end. What is it for you? It wasn't much for me before. It was just when it started to get cold. The pre-winter. Nothing more than that. No orange leaves. It didn't even snow. What was so special about the pre-winter?

Houses that are green are one step ahead

From the ivy that will destroy it someday

I think that ivy is one of my most favorite things about life

Six apples in front of my eyes

Waiting for their greater purpose

Each painted a deep, glossy red, reminding me of the perfume that sits on my desk

By Anji, 13, Crossroads Academy, Lyme, NH

Old Major and Karl Marx in Orwell’s Animal Farm

By Sunny, 13, Crossroads Academy, Lyme, NH