Writing Wild!
I Hear, I Listen Kendall Kirkpatrick, Grade 6 Star I hear the swallowtail chirp in the most peaceful way, not trying to disturb anything. I listen to the wind cry telling me rain is coming. It’s before noon and the mourning dove tells its story to the world. The creek trickles by and animals stop to get some rest. The cotton-tailed rabbit finds a friend and they wander into the hills. The hawks soar and cry with the wind as if they had become one. The celebration made by the coyotes and foxes is an orchestra of howls and cries. Mice ponder the idea of going, for they may become a meal. I finally hear the great-horned owl’s gentle hoot. Every dream of each boy and girl in the town below reaches the crests and are pointed a direction to go. These are the pathways of hope, happiness, love, peacefulness and sorrow. These are the foothills.
The Quietness of Silence Naia Robinson, Grade 5 Boise There’s a silence before the ghost jumps out at you and before the roller coaster turns the loop. There’s the silence right before the doctor comes through the door. The silence after a bad joke. The quietness as you listen in your bed and wonder if you’re not alone. There’s the painful silence for ten minutes in the airport on 9/11. Silence has opened the world to the unknown. Silence.
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