Words Work Wonders, Volume I: Idaho Writing Camps 2012 by The Cabin Literary Center

WORDS WORK WONDERS Idaho Writing Camps 2012

VOL. 1

WORDS WORK WONDERS Idaho Writing Camps 2012

VOL. 1

This is a Log Cabin Book, an imprint of THE CABIN 801 South Capitol Boulevard, Boise, Idaho 83702 (208) 331-8000 www.thecabinidaho.org ÂŠ 2012 The Cabin All rights reserved. Book design by Jocelyn Robertson. Printed and bound in the USA in an edition of 400 copies. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the publisher except in the context of reviews.

Idaho Writing Camps and publication of Words Work Wonders are made possible by generous support from: Bistline Advised Fund in the Idaho Community Foundation Boise Cascade LLC Foundation Boise Inc. Century Link Foundation City of Boise Fred Meyer Co. Foothills Learning Center Greater Boise Rotary Foundation Idaho Commission on the Arts Idaho Community Foundation Idaho Power Company Nagel Foundation John William Jackson Fund Keybank Keynetics The Langroise Advised Fund in the Idaho Community Foundation

Laura Moore Cunningham Foundation Scentsy Family Foundation Steele-Reese Foundation Seagraves Foundation U.S. Bancorp Foundation Weyerhaeuser Giving Fund Whittenberger Foundation

CONTENTS Introduction

• 1

WORD PLAY

• 5

CABIN WRITERS PICTURE THIS URBAN INK

• 71

• 123

• 193

WRITING WILD

• 289

Teaching Writers’ Biographies About The Cabin

• 339

Acknowledgements

Index

• 343

• 341

• 335

INTRODUCTION My life is busy. As a full-time graduate student and the Education Coordinator at The Cabin, many days my heart leave my heart sucked dry. A lot of people ask me why I spread myself so thin. Some days I wonder the same thing, but Idaho Writing Camps remind me why. Kids, whether they think they are good at writing or not, posses the most creative and daring minds I have ever known. I have personally learned so much from writing alongside young writers. I’ve learned that the word cat and the word cart next to each other can make an object that might be a cart with four paws, or a cart full of cats, or a cart whose wheel squeak sounds like a meow. I’ve learned that there is a whole world of possibilities when you put just two words together and that the silliness of it all is part of the understanding. Writing alongside young writers allows me to remember the magic in words, a magic that is sometimes forgotten in school; a magic that is glossed over in the novels on your bedside; a magic that as adults we have forgotten about long ago. Working at The Cabin, and providing young writers with experiences such as camp gives me more access to the true potential and purpose of writing than anything else in my life. Congratulations to the wonderful, inspiring, silly, and daring writers in this anthology. Thank you for teaching me. — JULIE STRAND Education Coordinator, The Cabin

WORDS WORK WONDERS

WORD PLAY A poem unleashes creativity much the same way a man unleashes an eager dog. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; OLIVIA BUNK, Grade 5

WHAT THE WIND TOOK FROM ME Alex Provant Grade 4, Boise I was going to dip my chicken strips in sauce, but the wind took them away from me. I tried french fries, but the wind took them too. I tried to dip buildings, cars, boats, and bicycles. I also tried trees and bridges, but the wind took them away from me too. I tried to dip similes, metaphors, and a poem, but the wind took them away again. It even took my penc...

ANIMALS IN THE GARDEN Katie Connor Grade 4, Twin Falls Bees in swarms going flower to flower collecting pollen, making honey, the queen bee making more. Bees as dragonflies fly around in packs and colors green and blue with see through wings. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

STUART’S CAPE Rachel Chasin Grade 4, Boise When I opened Stuart’s Cape I was surrounded by tons of candy! I had to think for a couple of seconds. I realized that I was in Candyland! It was so exciting! Also, there were very many duplicates of a black haired little boy. I realized that the book that I was reading was about...STUART! That black haired little boy was Stuart. There were also very many of his capes around. I wondered why Stuart was in Candyland and thought it’s probably just the fact that I just ate candy. Now I get it! Whatever I do outside the book comes back into the book! So I came out of the book and totally started to do things constantly! I read books, ate different things, etc. etc. Then I went back and I tried and tried, but I could not get back in. That was the last time that I read “Stuart’s Cape.”

RED MYSTERIES Tori Bailes Grade 3, Rupert There are six different colors in the rainbow. My favorite is red. I think that cherries, Santa, and Mr. Krabs all represent that color. My head sounds like red. The inside of a plum looks red. Rubies can be red. Red licorice is my favorite. I get red when my puppy is naughty. I love eating red pomegranates. Once I gave a very pretty red rose to my mom and said, “I thought a very pretty mom deserved a very pretty flower.”

COLORS Camden Stadelmeir Grade 3, Twin Falls Pink roses fashion poses purple daisy green panes pink in sun purple grape on the vine orange fire in the camp. Cabin people live with everything â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;smores with chocolate a marshmallow on peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s noses. Apple pie lemon pie apple cider on the side, Can apples be picked off the vine? Can apples imagine being in apple cider and apple pie? Apples and grapes are good friends and good apple cider is going to be good. On the dawn of the night the colors turn black.

MONKEYS Mattison Warren Grade 3, Boise Messy monkeys going wild Oh no the monkeys opened the cage; Naughty monkeys. Kind of like clowns Enjoying the sweet bananas Yelling, “Stop those monkeys!”

MY THINKING DREAM Madison Cummings Grade 4, Twin Falls In my dreams I can fly. Whenever I jump, I am in the air. In my dreams I become a famous author and songwriter and make millions of dollars. In my dreams I have a pool in my backyard with a free snack bar. In my dreams I could have powers and do whatever I’d want, like be invisible. In my dreams I would have a mansion with a chocolate fountain. In my dreams I talk to animals and help them. In my dreams I pass every test and paperwork my teacher gives me and get A’s. 10

A LIFE IN AN EGG Jake Jardine Grade 3, Boise Once upon a time, a humming bird was in an egg. It was a place for me. I had my own limousine with no seatbelts. I could eat anything I wanted and the egg had a lot of disco balls. I heard a lot of cracking. So I tried to ram my train into the egg. It made a crack. Then I launched my missile into the yellow shell and it worked. I finally got out. Awesome! I thought.

GREEN GABLES McKinley Haugeberg Grade 3, Heyburn Green wants to be blue, so light so dark. Blue wants to be mellow, mellow yellow. Yellow wants to be red, so sweet so tart. Red wants to be orange, so orange. I want my color to stay the same.

SPARKLING Darci DeAngelis Grade 3, Boise I am the white aspen tree that shines in the sunlight. I am the soccer ball that wins the goal. I am the glittering moon’s reflection on the lake. I am the Buddha that hums the song of the world. I am the first tie-dyed penguin to fly. I am the blood that trickles out of the mouth of the wolf. I am the flame that starts the wildfire. I am the water that sparkles on the grass. I am the lion that roars the flock of geese away. I am the elf that finds the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I am the mist that makes the sky sparkle.

SHARKS ATTACK! Jacob Boaz Grade 4, Meridian They are as big as a bus. Their jaws crush bones. Swimming all around in the sea. Biting boards and seals. Watch Out! They’re after you. You’d better swim. Never go out at dawn or dusk. Watch Out!

VICIOUS MONKEYS Alease Lindner Grade 3, Boise Oh monkeys, monkeys the small little monkeys. The wise little monkeys their devil eyes that pierce the night and vicious personalities. The gray and black fur that makes them too cute but no the true monkeys are vicious and flesh eating. Beware the monkeys!

Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the exciting world of monkeys.

I AM ME Kaisa Peterson Grade 4, Boise I am the tennis ball that bounces over the net and scores. I am the cool morning that puts dew on every grass blade. I am the dolphin jumping over the sea, and then to the surface. I am the tiger, sneaking up on its prey. I am the top of a tree, with nothing but quiet and peace. I am the pot of pasta, being boiled and seasoned. I am lemon yellow. I am grass blade green. I am the steam of pork chops flowing through the house. I am the flowing river, outlined with wild flowers and trees. I am nature. I am me. 13

ZOO HAIKUS Emma Bingham Grade 4, Boise Prairie Dogs Poking heads from holes little ones barking loudly in and out they go. Monkeys swinging through the vines laughing and playing all day like bananas, too. Lions hear their furious roar they are the kings of the jungle hear the frightful call.

THE WORLD INSIDE A MARBLE Abigail Peck Grade 3, Boise The world inside a marble would be like being inside the moon. A whole new world of white, orange, blue, green, yellow, indigo, purple, brown and pink. It would be a collection of all those colors. 14

MINIATURE SCHNAUZERS Harper Davis-Yee Grade 4, Boise When I opened Miniature Schnauzers suddenly I got sucked into the book. Animals started coming towards me and I was really scared until a dog came up to me and said, “Hi!” I screamed and hid in a bush. Then the dog came up to me and said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” So I came out. Then a rabbit came towards me and I said, “Hi” and it scared him. The dog came next to me. He said, “Don’t worry, he gets scared a lot.” He started showing me around. He said “This town is made out of candy.” Then he showed me the next town. That town was haunted. Then he showed me the next town. The houses and offices were made out of decks of cards. Then he said, “This town is the best town. This town is called Boise, everything is regular. I’ll show you the Boise library.” I said, “This is the book I opened to get into this world.” The dog said, “Maybe if you open it again, you might go home.” I opened the book and I was home.

RIVER RELIEF Corinne Ide Grade 3, Boise It was a hot, hot day when we went to the water and walked into the cold, numbing river. Rocks filled up my shoes, very bumpy and wet. A dog hopped in, too, when he got hot like us. And when he stepped back out, he shook like crazy. Out in the river some rafters floated swiftly by, but ended up stuck on the rocks. Then behind us, in the brush, We spotted a half-inflated abandoned raft That we made up a haunted tale about. We sifted for foolâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s gold hoping it was real, which made it all super fun, and such a cool relief. It was all such beautiful fun, full of story, adventure, craziness. Especially when we used sticks for swords and had a serious sword fight. Or, when I did the splits, slowly lowering myself into the depths. 16

THE POEM OF THE TREE Cory Chang Grade 3, Boise I am a tree, being climbed sometimes, or sometimes having my bark peeled off by strangers, which doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bother me much. The thing that I hate and fear most is having some crazy person cut me right off at the roots. I shiver at this, I wave my arms, I shake my leaves.

MADISON AND ME Abby Ludwigson Grade 3, Boise My friend lives in the city I live on a farm I have a horse She has a car We were going out for tea When someone stole my horse There he is Get him The woman fell off She got her rope And got the horse Then she got on her horse Then they went back to my house Next time I go out for tea We are riding in your car

THE ADVENTURE Megan Bass Grade 4, Boise There were 3 men named Bob, Billy and Joe. They were tired of staying in the same place. They decided to walk into the woods. “Billy said to walk left,” said Joe. “No, that’s wrong,” said Bob. All of them were confused. Then they decided to walk straight. They walked past broken trees that smelled smoky and pine-ish, Bob could taste the pine in his mouth that made him hungry. Then he said. “I’m hungry.” The rest of them agreed so they found an apple tree. They picked a lot of them and walked on. A couple of minutes later Bob (the clumsy, short, and a little dumb one) fell flat on his butt. He said “What was that? I’m scared.” But then they found it, the spot! They even heard birds chirping over their heads. “Hello birdies,” said Bob. Bill felt the dirt and said “It’s soft, lets start digging.” The digging took about 2 months, then they could build and they could live next to a tree!

HYENA, HYENA Andrew Long Grade 4, Boise Hyena, Hyena, howling loud, why are you sleeping and snoozing so sound? Hyena, Hyena, sleeping sound, why do you pounce on everything around? Hyena, Hyena, having fun, why don’t you go play and run?

ROSIE GETS BULLIED Leah Chasin Grade 3, Boise If Rosie got bullied she would call her best friend Bloom because she was the best at standing up for people, especially against bullies. Usually, when Bloom arrived she helped make the bullies go away, but this time they didn’t go away! So Rosie bullied them back. Rosie said that they were stinky and that she didn’t like them, then they went away.

HERE ON THE DOCK Davis Hatton Grade 4, Boise The sweet air on me, and the fish that I see in the stream. The trickling water, the plants, the sticks, the log on the mud. All this I see sitting here on the dock, nobody but me. And as I sit here I feel hot, so very hot. And what I most want is to slip into the scene and live within the freezing cold water.

CINDY THE SERVAL Emma Redford Grade 4, Boise Cindy the serval’s favorite food is apple pie. She was born on August 25, 2002. She loves to play soccer. Cindy is as fast as a cheetah when she runs to catch Frisbees. Cindy doesn’t like being in her cage. Cindy wants to play with the other servals. Cindy doesn’t like to drink juice, but she likes to drink water and milk. Cindy likes to swim. Cindy is shy when a lot of people look at her.

FISHING Annelise Jennings Grade 4, Boise One day long ago a man went fishing, he had long ropes and nets to catch fish. His wife was worried about him. Then there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? She thought. Right there, standing in front of her, was her husband. He smelled like fish and had a big smile on his face. “I need your help,” he said. So they got in the truck they had and to the beach they went. It was an old truck; you could hear the engine through the glass window. When they got there she saw the biggest fish she had ever seen. The fish’s skin looked slimy and it was bigger than she was. You could almost taste the rotten smell. It was so big they had to let it go. That fish was never seen again.

GLOVE Logan Smith Grade 3, Boise Inside a glove is a place I would live. In the finger spaces there are five rooms. Inside the glove there is a material as soft as a bed. When a human puts its hand inside I get pushed to the side but who cares. If a human gets the glove wet Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll get a bath of cold water, water as cold as the river. I could eat the crumbs as tiny as flies that a human drops when putting its hand in the glove. It would be as warm as an oven. Somebody else can be a crow living in a nest, but I want to be a miniature human living in a glove.

WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE Lillian Dixon Grade 4, Boise What would it be like to be an oak tree? You stand still and if you stand tall kids will want to climb you so high and when you look down you’ll see dots on the ground walking around your head will touch the sky and your trunk would be the knee shins… and picture it, all those branches would be arms. And so many fingers you’d be like an octopus and leaves your hair. And maybe if you’re skinny kids will hug you and if you’re muddy and mossy kids will want to hug you or climb you or have a picnic by you.

I AM... Blake Waldmann Grade 4, Boise I am a bright light in a dark world. I am a pink cheetah, a silver horse, a golden bull. I am a nature loving, peaceful dove, sent to spread love. I am a tiny flea, teaching people patience. I am the spirit of sportsmanship, people follow my example. I am a wonder filled person, how could the world be so beautiful?

SUMMER OF GREEN Brooklyn Taylor Grade 4, Kuna Green, I love you. Green you are the bracelet I made for my brother and the flowers in my yard. Green, I love you. Green, you’re the tree I’m climbing, the book I’m reading, and the apple I’m eating. Green, I love you. Green. Green, I love you. Green. You’re the leaves I’m sitting on as I paint my nails Green Green Green.

IN MY WORLD Ashton Gardner Grade 3, Meridian In my world, planes are in the sky. In my world, the earth is a sun. In my world, leaves are brown. In my world, birds are flying. In my world, bugs do the lawn. In my world, chimneys are saying oooooo.

HAIKUS Nicola Myers Grade 3, Boise Colorful green and blue and bright ceramic, a tall brown vase with fern. A bright pink chandelier, crystal dangly thing long fragile thing. A green crystal yellow and swingy, pretty thing. A brown chain hangs low.

FISHING IN HELL’S CANYON Claire Gordon Grade 3, Boise As the young woman rode on her donkey on the dirt road, she said to her husband, “Hurry, the fishing will be horrible if we don’t catch up to the others!” She sounded angry. Even so, it was a beautiful day at Hell’s Canyon, the rushing river looked so pretty under the sunlight. And she could smell the salmon up ahead as she touched her donkey’s soft mane. When they finally got there, all they could do was eat the salmon. It tasted delicious.

TRIXY THE ROSE Rosie Foltz-Ahlirchs Grade 4, Boise Trixy was a peach colored rose. She was a nice, happy and brave rose. But she was attached to her evil twin sister, Miranda. Miranda was a nasty rose who would tease Trixy. Miranda also had lots of thorns and blocked the sun from Trixy. Trixy wanted to solve these problems, but she didn’t know how. One day a man came to trim the roses. This is my chance to be free! Trixy thought. If the man came and cut Miranda off Trixy would have all the sun and no more teasing. And Miranda was wilting a bit. When the man came to Trixy’s bush he started to cut off roses! When he came to Trixy’s place he took one look at Miranda and cut her away from the bush. Trixy was finally free! The man put Miranda in the bin full of other roses he brought with him. Trixy was finally free forever from her evil twin Miranda!

ABOUT YELLOW Mina Shin Grade 4, Boise A line on the street Its color is yellow. Yellow leaves And popcorn And yellow cups. Yellow looks like bright sun Smells like sour food Tastes like sour lemon Sounds like someone is burning. I like yellow, The sunâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s color is yellow Maybe Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m yellow. I feel warm.

THE TRAIN Kaylin Collingwood Grade 3, Meridian There once was a train that had eight passengers. The train worked all day and all night to get to the prairie. But on the way the train broke down. So all of the passengers had to get out. They had to fix the train so they all set to work. They worked and worked with hammers and nails and all sorts of things. Then they realized that the engine had broke down so they all got their bikes out of the train. They had brought the bikes because the train was an old train. The passengers used the bikes to pedal to the nearest store to buy a new engine. They bought an engine and pedaled back to the train to fit it. Then they started the train and reached the prairie late. But they were glad they made it to the prairie. 27

DEAR MOM AND DAD Stella Chigbrow Grade 3, Boise I am writing you this note from a tree I miss you It is not like Texas around here It is noisy here And I live in a big tree It is big and brown and green And while I write this note I wiggle my tail Love, Fuzzy Pants

FRANK AND THE FISH Will Robison Grade 3, Boise Once upon a time, there was a man named Frank. His family was really poor. One day he caught a huge fish! When he came home he fed his family dinner, but that only took a little bit of the fish. For every meal he kept on using that fish, but he also fished everyday. Eventually he used up all of the fish. When they were done he caught so many fish he couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t count! He also had the huge fish skeleton! He sold all of that and made so much money he bought two houses and still had a lot of money. They bought everything they needed.

SUNSET Megan Berry Grade 3, Boise It is yellow It smells like mountains Its name is Sunset It is three years old It has thorns on it It feels It feels smooth

THE RACE Corbin Lienke Grade 3, Boise Hi! I’m Lewis. I drive trains. Let me tell you about my day. I was going down snake railroad on my 1870 black sand steam engine when a locomotive zoomed past me and yelled “Race ya to Perrine Bridge!” “Ok,” I yelled back. We took off. In no time at all I reached 250 miles per hour. When I didn’t expect it, I was flying. I started falling in the middle of the jump and lost all my coal. I was stuck on the side of the walls. I tried to start the train, but without the coal I couldn’t. Then I remembered the jump start button. I pressed it and the train roared back to life. I reversed for 1 hour and then I went full power ahead and jumped and flowed, this time I felt like I was actually flying! I landed safe and sound.

TWO BIRDS Claire DeVol Grade 4, Boise One bird flies the second follows one falls asleep in the sleepy bird hallows one goes “cook” the other goes “chip” One borrows the fairy’s clip one bounces on the flowers one on the toad. One jumps over the moon the other the sun. One says, “Jumping on things is so much fun.” One has fuzzy feathers One does not One said, “It’s scorching hot.” One is blue one is red one said, “The end.”

S.E.T.D.B. Mashaal Jan Grade 3, Boise I am a sloth I go really slow I’m an eagle who glides through the sky I’m a tree who grows in the sun I’m a duck who swims in the river I’m a bee who stings people

THE HAUNTED CHURCH Daisy Seibert Grade 3, Boise There once was a haunted church in town, and every time people went to this church we never saw them again. There was, however, one girl that knew what was happening, so she never went to church at all. By 1723 everyone was dead except for her. She was fifty years old, and quite lonely. Then, soon enough, the world ended. Fifty years later everybody came back to life and there was this new, dangerous animal that came back to live among them. The situation with this new animal was that it bit people with its poisonous teeth, teeth that made you die, or at least really sick. Times were dark again, haunted, and so many people died once more, or at least got really sick.

THE DAM Sophia Shalz Grade 3, Boise The dam is so big but it’s still under construction. It’s grayish blackish brownish. My family is working on it, my dad, mom, Katie and I. It smells like wood and straw. We named it Arrowrock after our grandpa. We should be famous but we aren’t. It was completed in 1915. It could carry more than 89,000 people. It was 1,100 feet long and 15.5 feet wide. It was 22 miles from Boise. It was nice when it was done. Now people can cross it. It looked as if something had fallen over when it wasn’t built. It was 348 feet off the ground, but it’s done now. Now we live in Boise near the dam. 31

THE MEERKATS Brooke Garman Grade 3, Caldwell Tattoo stripes Hide in the ground. Energy Meerkats are fast. Eat termites, more gross than clams. Eat gross things Ratty in the zoo, tail flutters like a fan.

WRANGLER BAR Sarah Zanot Grade 4, Boise There once was a wrangler named Chico Stein who caught a lot of different kinds of animals. He caught buffalos, birds; he even caught a beaver and made a hat out of it. When Chico Stein saw people do cool things he got clay and molded what they were doing. He was famous because one day, when he was looking for a cow, he saw one that looked ordinary. When he tried to shoot it, a guy walked in front. So Chico accidentally shot the guy and the cow. He went over to the cow, carrying the guy, and realized it had two heads. He took the cow to the bar owner, Sandy Rose, gorgeous with glasses, and they put the cow on display. Then he became famous for getting a two-headed cow until people found out that he killed the man, too. He went to prison for twenty years. Sadly, five years after, he died. He is still a legend. Now I live here with all his work, including the two-headed cow. 32

THE CLOCK Caroline Mecham Grade 3, Caldwell One day, somebody took the itty-bitty clock off the shelf. The princess looked and looked for it, but she could not find it. She went out to town and looked for it. She looked at the market, at the restaurant, and at the bank. Finally, she went home. She was sitting on the couch when she saw a note. It said: Dear Sis,

Thank you for letting me use the watch.

Brother

THE LEGEND OF GRASS Cory Chang Grade 3, Boise One day, a planter planted a pine tree in the middle of the equator on a round island. When the pine tree grew taller than all the trees on earth, its roots stretched to the other side of the earth. It poked out just a little bit and, when watered, it became green. That is the legend of grass.

MY NAME IS CLAIRE Claire DeVol Grade 4, Boise I’d rather camp than stay in a hotel I’ve never really camped I think too much I’m scared of large bugs I can be naughty I’d rather sit down and un-confuse my brain Can’t run long distances I get too jealous I don’t use a napkin I drink a lot of water Please don’t distract me I like to keep things clean Except my room My skin is soft and furry like peaches I am very ticklish But please tickle me

DYNASTY Lauren Noeker Grade 3, Boise Dynasty, Dynasty how lovely you are From the pretty shades of pink and gold To the sweet smell of pollen that you hold. When the bees see you, they fly over near Because they say you are such a dear Dynasty, Dynasty how lovely you are.

WARRIORS Warren Lane Grade 3, Eagle I was in the woods on a camp-out reading a book called Warriors. Suddenly I got sucked into a different world. There were cats fighting, scratching, and dying. Two cats were fighting, one was black and one was white. I looked at them carefully and remembered them from a book. They were slashing at each other and biting. The black one was killed. The black one was in the Shadow Clan and the white one was in the River Clan. I started to walk. Well, I walked and I saw more cats. One cat was being chased. I kicked the one that was chasing and picked up the other.

THE STORY OF THE EGG Myriah Ellison Grade 4, Eagle Today I found an egg in a bed of hay. I thought it would be nice to give it a day to hatch, but the next day, my brother had a match. I ran to get the egg from the burning flames. It fit in my pocket, but I had a hole in my pocket so it fell into the grass. A foal almost stepped on it. I grabbed and stopped the leg of the foal. I ran inside and mopped the floor, and I saw the egg. A leg popped out, so now I have a chick named Nick.

GIFT OF LIFE Madison McDaniel Grade 4, Boise Yellow, thorny and smells sweet O’, I would like to meet. The joy the wonder the Gift of Life, O’ what would that be like. The world will pause and smell the sweet smell of rain. Your brain will tickle and turn. When you look away, your eyes will burn. Every time you turn your head you will see the beautiful Gift of Life.

THE TWO ROSES Marielle Jennings Grade 3, Boise Once upon a Tuesday in a magical rose garden Rosie and Bloom were playing rose tag until their mom called them to come home to their rose house for supper. After supper they got into their nice petal fluff bed. Their mom and dad tucked them in and gave them their rosy bears. In the morning they were up and out of bed and when they got to school the meanest rose bully took away their magic sister necklaces. He was a really big, ugly rose that smelled awful like a three year-old unwashed sock. The necklaces were made from the finest rose silk and they were decorated with a rainbow colored rose petal with friendship magic inside. The magic only worked when Rosie and Bloom were together and it didn’t work for anybody else. When the bully was sleeping, the necklaces floated back to Rosie and Bloom. When they got their necklaces back they stood up to the bully. He was so afraid that he didn’t bother anyone else ever again. A few weeks after that he became a beautiful rose like everybody else. Everybody lived happily ever, oops, I meant to say every rose lived happily rose ever after.

1805 Adaela Stigile Grade 4, Boise One spring day while a buffalo was chasing Windstar, Sacajawea’s horse, Sacajawea’s baby fell out of her carrier. Windstar stopped and jumped on the buffalo and saved all of their lives. Sacajawea was so happy that she rewarded her horse Windstar with apples. 37

I AM London Montalbano Grade 4, Boise I am an Afro Indian Sarus Crane dancing I am a Horn Bill flying in the sky dreaming I am a Ring Tail Lemur swinging from tree to tree I am a Serval getting a sip of water on a savanna I am a White Fronted Capuchin eating bananas I am a Plated Lizard walking in the sand I am a Lion basking in the sun I am an African Crowned Crane pecking my neck I am Myself

BANDSHELL Olivia Bunk Grade 5, Boise A poem is like a universe of words A poem unleashes creativity much the same way a man unleashes an eager dog. A poem is the essence of everything. When I read a poem I can create worlds in my mind. When I write a poem I can be someone else. Inside of poems there are millions of ideas waiting to happen. After poems my mind becomes open. A poem lets me look at someone elseâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s thoughts and wishes.

HOW TO BE AN ELM TREE Claire Lane Grade 4, Eagle How to be an Elm Tree: You have to be strong, tall and grow. You have to feel kids climbing on you, see the world, smell so good in the morning, feel bumpy hear kids yell, grow strong roots and get water every day, stay alive in the winter, still stand tall and donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t feel sad when your leaves drop in the fall. Grow them back in the spring and have fun in the summer. That is what you have to do when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re an Elm Tree

RAVEN PAWS PATH Audrey Taylor Grade 3, Boise When Sasha opened the book, she got sucked in and changed into a Himalayan cat. Sasha looked around and saw bunnies and trees. Sasha chased the bunnies until she was bored. Then she realized she was in a book. She got scared. She did not know what just happened. A bunch of mean cats approached her. In a hissy, growly voice, they said, “Get out of our territory.” She was so scared. The cats captured her and took her to their leader, Fireheart. He said, “Put her in the dungeon.” So they dragged her down to the dungeon.

I AND II Leo Berliner Grade 3, Boise I Walking to the zoo Through wet wet grass. Walking to the zoo On a hot hot day. Walking to the zoo Through the big big park. II Melting Melting Melting Summer is an ice cream cone Dripping dropping gone. 40

HOW TO BE A BEECH TREE Azlyn Summervill Grade 3, Boise To be a beech tree you have to be brave when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re getting cut down. Try to warn your friends when you smell a fire. When you see a storm, try to stay sturdy. Warn your friends to be ready to feel dirty feet and hands all around. Tell your friends to pose for the camera on picture day at school.

THE HOT DRY DESERT Arantza Teres Grade 3, Meridian The sun goes up the animals come out a little burning sun shines on the birds that are red from all the sun. The afternoon came the birds saw as the sun became redder the hot, dry desert.

7 WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BALD EAGLE Elena Yang Grade 4, Meridian I A white head shining like the sun II A curved beak from jealousy III Special babies IV Long wings so bald eagles can rule the sky V Babies grow and learn to hunt for themselves VI Loyal birds learning from their parents VII Interesting creatures

THE ADVENTURES OF AN ANTEATER Colter Nagel Grade 3, Boise There was an anteater that walked around all day. He felt weird because there was another anteater in him. He ate ant guts from the anteater. The anteater inside the anteater sat in there all day bouncing a ball up and down. It sounded really loud like a bomb and hurt the other anteater. The anteater inside the anteater took a bath in a puddle of water. The water was the temperature of a body. Then he went to bed. When he woke up the next morning he made pancakes and for some reason the pancakes tasted like ants. He got mad and he bounced his ball so hard that it went up the other anteater’s nose. Then he found some pepper and put it in the other anteater’s nose and the anteater inside the anteater got his ball back.

THE ANNOYING RABBIT Lauren Crnich Grade 3, Kuna Robots ate chocolate and drank some cocoa. Queen Elizabeth was racing the robots. She erased a quilt. An annoying rabbit came along and said “What you doin’, queen?” “Shush,” said the queen, “You are annoying.” The rabbit gave her the stink eye, uttered an annoying sound, a high pitched sound, and she whacked him in the head and he stayed away forever.

LAND OF OOW Liam Afnan-Manns Grade 3, Scottsdale, AZ When I opened the book The Secret of Shadow Ranch, suddenly I saw a ghost skeleton. I also saw a vampire zombie. I was very very very scared but they didn’t see me or know I was there. I ran into the mythical forest. It was dark and spooky. The trees were melting because there was a lava monster. Then a water bird saved me. I met a candy princess and she gave me a transporter. I was home.

THE PRAIRIE Minyu Toh Grade 4, Boise I see: the flat land and dried grass, the world is a circle, but what I see, it isn’t. Right here on the prairie there’s no one walking about, it’s lonesome here on the prairie. I smell: Nothing, just grass. I taste: I can’t taste anything because there is only grass and flat land. I hear: The birds screeching above, the crow obviously. I hear the grass shaking gently. I touch: The grass and the flat land below. I feel alone, calm and cold.

THE ADVENTURES OF A SNAIL Casey Quinn Grade 4, Boise The snail carries his apartment on his stomach. He is both the apartment and the person in the apartment, but really in the shell is a small room where the true snail, wearing short underwear, sits at a large table. At one end of the room a bunch of levers stick out of slots in the ceiling. It is with these that he controls the tail of his house. A large table stretches across the room. At one end is the television and the snail stands at the other end. The table is brown. The ceiling, walls, and floor of the room are green. A lamp is in the middle of the table. Most of the time, the snail stands under the sloped ceiling of his snail room watching television at the large table where a lamp burns. After stretching he falls asleep. If he feels a Frenchman picking up his apartment he quickly turns off the lamp and rushes to the levers trying to escape. If he cannot escape he plays dead and waits. He knows that Frenchmen are careless and there will come a time that heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be free to move his apartment to some secluded place, where he shall watch television and fall asleep until another Frenchman picks him up.

THE ADVENTURES OF A HYENA Keely Vatcher Grade 3, Star In the wild, a dog roams. At night a dog sleeps in a cave. At day a dog hunts for food. During the day a dog plays. That dog that roams, sleeps, hunts, and plays is a hyena. There is a hyena inside that hyena. Whatever the little hyena does the big one does. The little hyena helps him roam in the wild, sleep in a cave, hunt for food, and play. But the hyena on the inside helps with a lot more. The hyena on the inside is very nice and kind, just like the big one. When the big one is sleeping, the little one is awake, waiting for the sun to rise. He will wake up the big one for another day. While the big one is awake, the little one inside rests but doesn’t go to sleep or read or play or run or hunt or roam. He stays in place resting.

BLUE FEELINGS Taylor Bischoff Grade 4, Twin Falls Blue can be happy, but most people think sad. Like the clear sky, cloudless. The small forget-me-nots tickle my nose. I hear my father playing “Jazz Blast.” The blues on television. It makes you feel sad, and happy, the same, sweet blueberries, sometimes sour. Tomatoes aren’t blue. They still make me feel down. I feel blue when watching horror movies, or losing the game when I usually win.

GIANT FLEMISH RABBIT Abigail Wechsler Grade 3, Boise The rabbit carries a carrot in her mouth. She is both the rabbit and the person inside the rabbit, but actually inside the rabbit is a tiny house where the real rabbit plays a game of tiny pool. At the middle of the room there is a table where there are some controls. The rabbit makes the bigger rabbit’s arms and legs move with the controls. Most of the time the rabbit eats carrots in the middle of the room where she swims like a tadpole. She plays and plays until she feels a child picking up the bigger rabbit, and then runs to the controls and makes the bigger rabbit jump out of the child’s hands. The children get sad and then she eats her carrots and plays until she feels a child picking up the bigger rabbit. It’s happening again! She runs to the controls but they don’t move the bigger rabbit this time. She keeps trying but it doesn’t work so she and the bigger rabbit ends up being a pet. They end up in a nice, warm home. The rabbit eats carrots and plays and the bigger rabbit goes to sleep and no more children ever come again. It is fun being a pet because they don’t have to look for carrots and are glad to have a home.

THE FROG WHO TRICKED THE PRINCESS Michelle Clark Grade 4, Boise Once upon a time there was a frog who wished he was a prince. One day a princess came down to the lake, so the frog decided to play a trick. “My dear princess,” said the frog. The princess turned around and said, “Where are you?” The frog said, “Down here.” The princess bent down and saw the frog and said, “What do you want?” “I want a kiss.” “Ewwww I’m not going to kiss you. You are too slimy and don’t hear good.” “Please kiss me I will be your husband.” “Okay, just one kiss.” “Thank you thank you.” (Smooch) “Gross you’re really slimy.” “One more time I promise I’m a prince.” “Okay one more time!” (Smooch) “You are just an ugly frog.” “Ha ha ha you’re right! I tricked you.” “Actually ha ha to you because I’m having frog stew tonight.” “NO!” And that night the princess cooked the tricky frog.

MY DICTIONARY Emma Hall Grade 3, Eagle Possession: sad while eating jellybeans Billowing: slow motion eating Luster: great great great great great grandfather snail Crusaders: millions of people Solstice: bomb exploding Dwellers: people shopping for old old shoes Engraving: playing leap frog on the moon Executioners: dead animals Cigarettes: hair coming off Forsythia: piles of knives

LUNES Anna Harms Grade 3, Eagle Water so blue, squirts up to the starts, such pretty blue. Pink, yellow, orange such prickles on their stem, such pretty colors. Trees so tall, branches hanging out to me with green leaves. The amazing rose garden, so many plants that grow there are plants everywhere.

POPCORN Landon Carkhuff Grade 3, Boise Popcorn, popcorn, pop pop pop, put it in a bowl and get a movie. Oh popcorn, oh popcorn, so crunchy, so munchy, so yummy. Popcorn, popcorn, what a nice snack. Share it, share it with your friends, or have a sleepover!

THE RIVER Allessandra Lanza Grade 4, Boise Water rushing down the river the fast wind against my skin Bright green leaves on the mouths of trees eagles soaring through the air Birds chirping all about lions roaring at the bright blue skies Fish splashing all around the smell of fresh trees fill the air Beavers on the logs bright green vines hanging around Smells of candy bars fill the air people screaming everywhere Caterpillars chewing on the leaves

A TREE Lucy Morfit Grade 4, Boise One day, I was walking in my backyard. When all of a sudden, I walked right into a tree that I hadn’t noticed before. Then I was in another dimension. The sky was dark and it smelled bad. The hair on my neck stood up. I had to get out of there and fast. But how? I saw my house in the distance, so I ran toward it as fast as I could. Knocking on the door, my dad finally answered, but it wasn’t my dad. He had blue hair. Whoa! “Who are you? Are you my dad—because you look like him.” The man with the blue said, “Lizzy, is that you? It is about time. You need to wash the dishes. “Okay,” I said as I went into the kitchen. I looked at the clock. 3:10, about the time I walked into the tree. Then I had it! I ran into the backyard and into the same tree. After, I found myself lying next to the tree. “That was crazy!” I said. It was just a dream.

THE LIFE OF MICHAEL AND JACK Ava Balderrama Grade 3, Mountain Home

Once there were two men. They were brothers. One brother liked to sing. One brother liked to dance.

One night, the two brothers went out for dinner. The brother, named Michael, saw a stage. Michael went up on the stage and started dancing. The other brother, named Jack, saw the stage, too. Jack went on the stage and called his band. And he started to sing. Michael danced to the music. Everybody started clapping. And Michael and Jack had fun. One day, Michael and Jack found two beautiful ladies. One ladyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name was Alisa. The other was named Matilda. The two young men got married and then they had kids.

WARM SPRINGS AVENUE Catherine Ripson Grade 4, Eagle It’s my second month in Idaho. We have moved all of our furniture to our new house. Right now, I’m in my new room, thinking about our old house in California, thinking about the big oak tree that I used to climb, thinking about all of my old friends and my old school, thinking about my old life. But then I think about my new life. The kitchen is nice. It’s great for baking pies with Mom. And the backyard—its got no trees to climb, but it has so much open space! And the dining room, oh, the dining room. The dining room is the most beautiful room in the house! It has the most beautiful cabinets. They have a wooden trim and clean glass, so you can see all of the beautiful teacups, bowls, plates and teapots. And the walls! The walls are painted a pale yellow with a pale yellow pattern on the very top, trimmed with wood. I hear a knock on the door and rush to answer, but Mom beat me to it. It is Uncle Michael, Aunt Amy and my cousins, Owen and Patrick. “Happy Thanksgiving!” they say. Then Grandma and Grandpa enter, saying, “Happy Thanksgiving!” Mom and I say, “Happy Thanksgiving.” And Dad and Sean enter, “Oh, hello. Happy Thanksgiving, come in.” Once everyone says ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ at least six times, we sit down at the dining room table, waiting for dinner while the adults talk. We have an amazing dinner of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, peas, corn and finally pumpkin pie. After our delicious Thanksgiving dinner, I put on my nightgown and go to bed. In the bed, in my new room, in my new house on Warm Springs Avenue.

In the morning, Mom comes out of her room without any jewelry (which is very unusual) and says that she looked around everywhere and couldn’t even find one earring. Dad says, “I’ll go and report this to the Sheriff.” So after breakfast, we go to the Sheriff and he says that he will put someone on the case. We then go back home. After about a month and a half, we hear a knock on the door, and someone says that the criminal had been caught and he is now in jail. “But what about my jewelry?” Mom says. The man at the door says, “Oh, well, um, err...” When we ask him where it is, he says something about it being in Minnetonka Cave. “Minnetonka Cave!?” Mom says, “I’ll never find my jewelry ever again!” “Don’t worry, ma’am, we got you this new jewelry and you don’t have to pay.” “Oh, I guess it’s okay, then.” Then we all sit around the dining room table, eating chicken and mashed potatoes, and everyone is happy. But rumor has it that the jewelry is still in Minnetonka Cave.

THE VERY RICH PERSON Hailey Hepworth Grade 3, Meridian BRIDESMAID ONE Yo, yo, hey, what’s up? BRIDESMAID TWO Where’s the yo-yo? BRIDESMAID THREE There’s no time for playing right now, so no yo-yo! BRIDESMAID TWO Yes, okay, let’s get to the play! BRIDE Oh, I just can’t wait! MINISTER I said no marrying him. BRIDE Humph! BRIDESMAID ONE Okay people, we have to get planning! BRIDESMAID THREE I thought I was the boss! BRIDESMAID TWO No, I’m the boss! Okay?

BRIDESMAID ONE None of us are! Okay! BRIDESMAID THREE (screaming) Aaaahhhhhh! The bride fell off the balcony! MINISTER SHE was supposed to say the Aaaahhh part! BRIDE (in the air) Yeah, he is right! Aaaaaahhhh!

I’M A WOLF Emmerson Cooper Grade 4, Boise I’m a wolf. I miss my home. I miss the alpha male. It’s pretty nice here. I love the roses! I can’t seem to find any deer. Now I can only eat squirrels—yuck! aaaaahhhhh I am sorry. I just found dead deer ! crunch ! yum This tastes good! Wait a minute This is not real! This is just plastic Flavored like a real deer! RRRRRgggg! That squirrel just put that there to make fun of me You’re evil! Here I come! I’m going to eat you! Sorry. That squirrel just teased me. Yes, I got you! NNNNOOOO!!! Sorry, he just got away. Oh no! Here come people! I’d better hide. Double Oh No There is nowhere to hide. Triple Oh No They see me. Run!!! Hhhuu, man! That was a close one. Well, goodbye! Love, Emmerson

BANANAS Tori Simon Grade 4, Meridian Fox in socks Lives in a box Llama in pajama Come to wreak some drama Fox in socks Locks his box Parakeet, quite unique Comes to fox in socks Fox in socks Unlocks his box Llama in pajama Come in and wreak some drama Fox in socks Runs out of his box Parakeet, quite unique Follows fox in socks Fox in socks Finds a box Fox in socks Locks the box Parakeet, quite unique Canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t come in with fox in socks 59

A BEAUTIFUL PLACE Jules Weinert Grade 4, Boise The sun shone brightly as I ran. I was hot, so hot, but I had to get there fast or they would catch me. Finally, I got there, ducked under the canopy, and rolled onto my back. Ah, the warm sun. The sweet aroma of squirrels’ nuts. The cold river running by. The soft grassy meadow where I could hide, where nobody had ever been…but I had to go back, to the real world, evade the police, get more magic lessons from my Meakix, hide in the midst of my stormshell of black dragons. Dragons. The only thing I know is real: dragons. They could help me defeat him. I asked; they said yes. When we got to his cave, I challenged him to a duel at Lava Falls the next day. ***** Fire spurted from my lips. I dove, gliding on my wings, clawing at his face like the rest of my stormshell. Finally, he fell into the lava and burned up. I could go back and hide. My life was right. I could…I could go back to a beautiful place.

UNICORN POTION Sierra Salter Grade 4, Kuna Âź cup sparkles 6 cups unicorn spit 1 unicorn horn 2 unicorn eyes Put the sparkles into a mixing bowl. Next put the unicorn spit into the bowl and stir until the sparkles are mixed. Get a grinder and grind the horn and put it into the bowl and stir. Then mush the eyeballs in another bowl. Add the mushed eyeballs into the first bowl and stir softly. Then put it in a cup and drink it! You will turn into a unicorn!

PRINCEâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S LULLABY Kyla Clouthier Grade 3, Garden City Spool of thread Being red Top to bottom full of dread Come and fire Die for thee Cry and grieve With all of thee Bring flowers To thy grave Heal and be happy For thine is with thee, Lord 61

YOU FILL ME WITH GLEE Sarah Neuhoff Grade 4, Eagle Turquoise you fill me with glee. You are the stones I put on my shelf. You are the color of my wall. I paint my toenails with you. You’re the shoes I put on my feet as I dance down the street. Turquoise, you color the water with your algae and hold up my hair. I put you on my body like beautiful feathers.

DICK CLARK: HE’S COMING Brett Wiebe Grade 4, Eagle Beware! Danger! Dick Clark headquarters on exit 9,999 on the Pixie Land highway. He’s angry because we sent him to Pixie Land on a rocket ship. Danger! Why he’s mad—I have no clue why, but he’s coming. He can BLEND with his SURROUNDINGS! He can find a McDonald’s in a Costco. I don’t know why he’s dangerous, or why I’m so hyped about him owning a burger shop on exit 9,999. Then again, how does he blend when he’s a clown at a circus that has a big sign that says DICK THE CLOWN. And besides that, the circus is 12 stories high. And the only time he found a McDonald’s in a Costco was when an earthquake appeared in San Francisco and the McDonald’s rammed right into the Costco’s walls and slid through the wall. Dick was the first to buy a Big Mac at the new McDonald’s.

WIZARD OF THE UNICORN Olivia Blue Grade 4, Boise A unicorn with bloodshot eyes lived on planet Brazil. He heard that Cinderella was getting married. He spoke with the wicked witch of the west. Mabel the witch heard his plot. She told Cinderella. Cinderella got so mad she turned into a troll. Mabel ran as fast as she could. EVIL Dorothy saw flying monkeys. She called her dog Toto. She made Toto run into the robot and he killed the wicked witch. The unicorn turned good. Also, Cinderella exploded.

MY LIFE BY THE WATER Chris Holstine Grade 3, Boise Hi, my name is Chris. I’m a shark and I’m dry as dirt. It’s because I live in a can of salt, also known as the Red Sea. Plus, I’m as long as the Greenbelt, so long I could eat something on land! 63

THE SKY Carly Ching Grade 4, Hailey Light blue with white, like your own personal wave of imagination.

YELLOW ANIMALS Bebe Blue Grade 4, Boise Yellow, I love you. Yellow you are the yellow fish eating pizza in a yellow pond on the yellow moon. Yellow, I love you. Yellow you are the yellow cat on the yellow moon watching the yellow fish eating a pizza Yellow, I love you. Yellow you are the yellow dog watching the yellow cat watching the yellow fish eating a pizza on the yellow moon.

GLACIER NATIONAL PARK Cory Chang Grade 3, Boise Chapter 1 When I opened the book called Glacier National Park I read a few pages and all of a sudden I found a door that covered half of the picture I was looking at. I opened the door; I went right through it! I slid down a tunnel and I was in a new world! About five seconds later it raised me into the air. I was a little scared so I closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes I found myself walking in the air. I walked around and thought it was a pretty town. Soon I saw two people and I ran to them and I asked, “How did you get here?” They answered, “We were flipping through a book and saw a flap! When we opened the flap we flew right in! How did you get here?” I answered: “Same as what you just said!” Chapter 2 “Don’t you think we should be friends since we are the only ones here?” I asked. “Yeah, we really should. And by the way, how long have you stayed here and how do you live?” I answered, “Hey that was what I was going to say! But I just came here, so I don’t know either. Let’s walk around and see if there are any more people.”

A WORD IS A Nathan Fjeld Grade 4, Gloucester, VA A word is a noun. It is also a thing made up of letters. A word is like a sea because it moves slowly through your mind. A word dances. It dances all through your head. Together words fly. They fly through a book.

SWISS CHEESE Olivia Jones Grade 4, Rupert I look through the holes of the block of Swiss cheese thinking I do not wish to be a cat chasing, never catching the mouse. I do not wish to be a mouse either, getting chased never stopping. I look in my surroundings, white. People think cheese is only yellow, but white cheese I am in. I see parts of cheese being cut and being eaten. I think, Do people think cheese needs glitter? Do people think about eating parts of cheese? I do not know. But I am only in cheese, and shall stay that way too.

I GROW AND GROW Isabella Prehn Grade 4, Boise I grow and grow sometimes I grow fruits and I can be tall or short. I have leaves and roots and I have branches and I am very strong. You can sometimes climb me. I am fat or skinny and I last a long time like a turtle does. I am made out of bark and wood. I can be in parks and other places. I stand still like a statue. And squirrels climb me.

MEADOWS OF LILIES Jacqueline Cronin Grade 3, Hailey When Lily was born in the barn, her parents ran right to her and named her Lily. When she turned five, they knew Lily was the perfect name for her, because she loved running out into the meadows of lilies and would run back home and say to her mom and dad, I love lilies, is that why I’m named Lily? And they always said, “Yes, my darling.” But one night, she heard a sound. Lily got out of bed and followed the sound and the sound led her to a door. She opened the door and walked through an alley and came to another door. Lily opened it. There she saw an old man holding a staff and all the old man said was, “You are missing, now go.” Lily ran out the door. She ran down the alley. And when she ran out the door that led to her bedroom, she thought, that can’t be. I wonder who my real parents are? She slipped on her rain boots, and put on her coat and walked out the front door. As she walked, she said to herself, I wonder if Miss Luna is my mother? She walked to Miss Luna’s house and rang the doorbell. Miss Luna opened the door and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” “Yes,” she said, “but I have to ask you a question.” “And what is that question,” Miss Luna asked. “Are you my real mom?” “Yes, I am,” said Miss Luna. And a smile appeared on her face. “But Mother,” said Lily, “my fake mom and dad are coming.” “I’ll deal with it,” Miss Luna said and called their black cat, Blackie. Blackie ran outside and when Lily’s fake parents saw that cat, they drove all the way to California. Lily and her real parents moved back in the barn and lived happily ever after. 68

CABIN WRITERS This hill is flat like an acorn cap, like the mist on a hot summer day, like a waterfall over the moon to wash away the stars and to put out the sun. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; AMELIA BOARD, Grade 6

MY TRUMPET LESSON Samantha Eckersell Grade 5, Idaho Falls It was a warm spring day with just a little breeze. I was getting ready for my trumpet lesson when an elephant rang my doorbell. ‘Ding-dong!’ I opened the big brown heavy door. The elephant handed me a tie-dye rose in a bucket of clean water and spilled it all over my new denim dress! My heart pounded so quickly because of my mixed emotions! On my way to my lesson I remembered that I still needed to eat my lunch! I ate a bagel that was in a Ziploc bag in my lunchbox. It tasted so sweet! On my way into the colorful house that was yellow, purple, pink and red a butterfly landed on my hand. It was green, white, blue, and orange. I took my trumpet lesson and played, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Start.’ I sounded awesome. But what was the rest of the day like?

WHAT HAPPENED? Annika Coffman Grade 5, Boise There are some things that I will never find out. For example, what happened to the little girl that entered the straw hut, as if in a trance, but never came out? Or the mysterious magician with the cards and the black rhino like an endless maze in the dark night sky? And what occurred when the group of young children hid in the small attic, for a game of hide-and-seek, never to be heard from again. There are some mysteries that are just too advanced for the world. But what fun would it be without them?

LONELY Lauren Lafrades Grade 5, Boise One lone plum tree sitting glumly in the thin dirt, is not very big in size. Dark clouds swiftly roll in over the small, bare tree. Stripped of its purple leaves, it stands in the desert. The auburn dirt that once lay motionless on the ground is blown up by a sudden gust of violent wind, making the whole scene cloudy with a sheen of red dust. The tree is a dark brown shade with a slight hint of gray. This small, bare plum tree has a crooked and bent trunk and branches that sit lonely in the dry desert.

DEATHâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DOORSTOP Clarissa Wilkes Grade 6, Boise Is a black heart more bitter than a winter death? Is a gray rose really dead? Do you still have hope when the locusts come? Does a black cat really bring bad luck? Are you more precious than a harp even when you shriek? Is your funeral dress a necessity to you?

A DEATH INSIDE THE FAMILY Katherine Nicholes Grade 6, Meridian Why does it smell so weird in here? As I walk through the black room, a rush of winter goes by me. The harp starts playing as the roses are laid down on the casket. Out of the corner of my eye I see a black cat chasing a fly. I don’t know how he died, but I really miss him. The man that was his boss had a black heart and just beneath his skin was something more. The claw scratches on his face meant something, but I don’t know what. As my grandma’s dress hit the floor beside the casket, I knew nothing would ever be the same. 75

MY NIGHTMARE Audrey Wechsler Grade 6, Boise Is it a monster coming out of my closet? Or is it a costume dancing on the street? There is an orange beetle crawling up my arm. I shiver, I feel an electric pulse rushing through my body. I see flying shapes. I hear a screech. I see a monkey wearing a sweater. Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a shadow of a thumb on my beige wall. My stomach is doing flips. I taste a sour taste of nectar in my mouth from a long tulip. I hear a saxophone playing wild, crazy jazz. Then everything is still. Where did it go?

MAGIC Ella Baker Grade 5, Boise What is a real sound suit? A sweet ladybug telling us, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s spring? A morning glory rising to greet the sun? In the art museum there is a little magic. I love the whoosh as a flash of red colors fly by like an eagle soaring. Your eyes feast on its beauty and your brain is in awe at the sewing. It is not just a dress; it is magic. Sound suit.

LAVENDER LADY Emma Charters Grade 6, Eagle One single rose in bloom, she was alone at her home. A dying rose beneath her feet, three petals lost. Sprayed with heavenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s perfume, she sits, thinks, falls and does it again. Her power and pride grow alongside her. When she shrivels in the water, so does her pride.

SHIMMER Josephine Miller Grade 5, Boise It is I, Shimmer. You know I am coming when your paints and paint brushes fall to the ground, when the trees brush up against your window. I take you into my arms and you start hearing a soft melody so you close your eyes and you start feeling sleepy. As we are running through the woods, the stars start lighting up the sky to make you fall asleep. So you close your eyes and fall asleep. As we pass trees and bushes, the leaves start rustling and as we go faster and faster, the wind starts howling and the snow starts falling onto the ground, getting deeper and deeper, and you start to shiver from the cold black night. When the sun starts rising, it is time to take you home so I turn around and head for your house as the sun gets higher and higher.

A BREEZE OF LOVE Brianna Ellison Grade 6, Eagle The sun shone off my glistening beads, and a warm breeze blew through the air. You knew I was coming, little one, when all your sorrows went away and happiness flew through the air. Like a lilac in bloom or a robin that sings, my sun will shine, my river will flow, and rain will fall quickly down me. Yellow and pink, my flowers will turn, the wood of the trees upon me, I’ll sing you my song, a lullaby, so you’ll know where to find me. And quickly I’ll run, as fast as a deer, and give you my love that I sing through my tears. I’ll teach you of love, of hope and of faith. I’ll tell you of night and of day. But soon I’ll go back from the place I once left but I’ll be in your heart, I’ll give you my love, as I keep the sorrow and grief away. So stay happy, my dear and I will return, to be with you again someday. For now, we must part as I flow down my river, and say, farewell, goodbye.

MR. COCKY Emma Heitz Grade 6, Marsing He looks at me with a strange mystery. He ducks his head or so I have read. His colors open my eyes but his beak is full of lies. He canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be trusted or ignored but glanced at, from a distance in a candy store. He wanders the farm with fierce charm, And thinks he rules the coop when crowing high top his stoop.

NONSENSE POEM Maggie Liebich Grade 6, Boise It was along the Macadonianeous wave Not knowing what was at stake. Will anyone save him from his stage? Or will he die alone eating mashamake? Will he ever see tomorrow Or will a magolous creature take him away? Whose life can she borrow Before it is too late to bonowanusay? 80

SPRING SHINING THROUGH WINTER Sha Sha Kingston Grade 5, Boise When a cold winter day flew by, no one wanted to go outside. Winter had been there, for nearly a year! But when the clouds got blown away and the snow stopped falling, finally, the spring shone through winter! The heavy raindrops covered the land the grass, the trees, and on the sand. The smell of nature rang through the air. And the raining? People didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t care because the spring shone through winter! In May, daises and lilies all bloomed bright, all through the day and all through the night. The baby birds and deer, all came out, and little bear cubs wandered about. They came out because . . . The spring shone through winter!

HOW I WAS FORMED Jillian Means Grade 5, Boise I was formed by Chinese rice. I was made by bright green bamboo eating pandas. I was formed by bright yellow heat. I was made by snowy mountains that people ski down. I was formed by my friends and family. I was formed by my sister’s blue dragon tattoo. I was made by my mom’s shiny pearl earrings, as shiny as the stars above. I was formed by the lenses in my dad’s glasses.

I was made by sugar and candy chomp! I am formed by all these things and more!

THE ROSE Ruby Berliner Grade 6, Boise The rose is as beautiful as dew on freshly mown grass. The petals feel like silk floating on a cloud. The thorn is a protector, sharp as the flame of fire that licked the castle. The thorn is like a long silver sword, deflecting with a prick, everything that tries to take the princess out of her tower. The rose would never leave the thorns. The rose treats them like royalty or a guiding friend.

TO BE Kaelyn Harms Grade 5, Eagle To be a sycamore tree you have to stay still be touched, let your gliders glide, feel the wind, let your arms sway, hear children play, be their toy, see people move, donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t envy them, be interesting, be looked at, be cared for, let your blossoms bloom, shake and sway, grow your roots far. Have color when autumn comes, change red gold yellow when winter comes, let them fall, sleep when spring comes, grow, watch others grow when summer comes be huge. Then do it again.

PAINTING DIAMANTES Zach Krause Grade 5, Boise Paintings painting drawing colorful, bright. B? Brushing, cleaning drawings. Road driving, biking black, striped, bumpy walking, striping crosswalks.

NATUREâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S LENS CAP Madison Thomas Grade 5, Boise Beehives as old as grandma an orange crab crawling around an important explorer a landscape view

SILLY ALLITERATION Molly Feeley Grade 5, Boise Silly stupid strangers lover stragglers Caterpillar cat creates colors that clink Vince Van Visitor is very vulgar Red Rilly Ristor reads, ‘riders ride reading’ Suzanne beestings at sundown Nellie naps on numbers Ally Apple ate apricots Silly Sun said starry stun solar Window walking widows wearing Pete picks pickles in the park Callie craves California Sally swallows sandwiches Earl eats ears Gabe’s granite is gray Walrus Wally will never walk Cattie Cat can’t carry on conversation Cade Crocodile has no cadence Ernest Edward eats episodes Coco cat can clown?

ASH TREE Camille Block Grade 6, Eagle To be an ash tree You have to be strong and withstand every kind of temperature and weather if you want to live. You always have to be aware that if you are not strong at any moment a hard gust of wind could send you to your untimely death. To be an ash tree you have to put up with pesky little animals nesting in your arms. Being an ash tree can also be quite rewarding the joy of feeding people and animals with your berries the gentle summer breeze on your bark.

THE COMPETITION Anthony Luo Grade 6, Boise In a land not known of, far, far away, lived some aliens. Right before the competition, these aliens weren’t your typical aliens—they were dressed in bright colors. They wore beads, sequins, buttons, and all sorts of things. Some even wore plants and small birds over their bodies. The aliens’ costumes were about six feet tall, and had different heads. All of their costumes were in grotesque shapes. None of the alien costumes were the same, all unique. Because of this, once a month they would have a competition to see who was better looking, best at dancing, etc. The aliens could change how they looked right before the competition. The competition was important because winning meant a golden leaf, a party, honor and respect, and chocolate, which was a delicacy, for a month. One night before the competition, an alien named George, who continuously lost, secretly crept into the previous winner’s costume. It should be noted that aliens are very plain without their costumes. He took off all the beads and animals and took them home. He then fed his opponent a knock out pill. The next day, he went to the competition with the previous winners’ costume on. He won 1st place, and everyone thought he was the other alien, who was named Frederick. However, Frederick soon woke up to realize that he had missed the competition and his costume was missing, so he went to Oscar’s, a judge, house. Oscar said that a person who looked like Frederick had taken the first place prize. Further investigation proved that it really was the last place winner, George.

Frederick got together with the other judges and five other contestants. They decided to punish George. Meanwhile, George was returning to his house happily. He was eating the chocolate happily and took a picture he had of Frederick and started throwing darts at it. The next day, when George woke up, he found that his first place prize was missing. He walked out the door, at which point Frederick and five other aliens jumped up and shot him with an electromagnetic pulse. George fainted. When he recovered, he found himself in jail. He vowed, from then on, never to steal again.

APPLES Virginia Beikmann Grade 6, Twin Falls Red, bright, shiny as diamonds; on the inside, creamy white milk, crisp, juicy; they make me happy as sunshine.

I AM REALLY A ROBOT FUELED BY PICKLE JUICE Ryan Quinn Grade 6, Boise Every day I consume three times my weight in pickle juice to fuel me. When I have a good supply of pickle juice, I feel like a bear in a vat of honey. Basically happy! However, problems have sprung up since a new pickle juice recipe came out. This so called ‘pickle juice’ is actually lacking several essential vitamins, including chlorine, nitroglycerin, arsenic, and lead. These, these…weirdos who invented this disgraceful substance say it is ‘healthy and not fatal if consumed.’ The smug, sanctimonious look of selfsatisfaction when they had when they developed it made me short circuit! Helloooo?!? Humans aren’t the only living beings on this planet! One man’s poison is another robot’s food! Einstein, Twain, and Washington were all robots that ran on poison pickle juice too! In fact, all the great heroes of history ran on the toxic liquid. Now we pickle juice robots are being forced to cook up our own pickle juice. Actually, it’s kind of simple: squeeze the juice of ten pickles’ into a bowl. Add a five-pound block of chlorine. Then just add the rest of the ingredients. This recipe gives instructions to cook one week’s worth of the pickle juice. However, yesterday, nitroglycerin was indefinitely pulled out of the market. We poison pickle juice robots, will shut down, and low-level humans will ruin the world with no smart pickle robots anymore. Adieu!

AN ODE AND A HAIKU Sophie Moylan Grade 5, Caldwell Ode to the two-headed calf With four legs, four ears, four eyes, Two noses, two mouths, two heads, but only one tail â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Ode to the two-headed calf.

NATURE Minjun Kwak Grade 5, Boise I see the number of geese eating leftovers off the ground and the bikers coming down the Greenbelt. I see some tall trees. I smell the moisture, sprinklers spraying onto the grass. I see some people jogging and I hear the loud workers. I see some high bushes and the geese getting mad as a bear who canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t find honey. The workers are disturbing their eating.

MY LIFE AS A HUMMINGBIRD Andrea Teres Grade 5, Meridian When I fly around kids stop and chase me. I also get chased by trucks that say Pet Store. I am only as light as a penny and I am the smallest bird in the world. I am soft and warm with my feathers. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m only looking for a nice tree to live in. And crumbs. I am also looking for a warm place close to mountains. I like the respect people give hummingbirds, for we are fast and have beautiful, light colors. I mostly live in peace, for no one tries to hunt me. Some people keep me as pets. But we will always have beauty and respect.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER Sarah Chasin Grade 6, Boise Birds of a feather Birds of color Birds that sit and call for others. Spots and stripes So different from mine And each one to itself is one of a kind. 92

SNOOLS Anna Tappen Grade 5, Boise Away on a planet called Kaxulla, there are Snools. Snools are creatures that are hairy. Though they might seem scary, they are harmless as squirrels. They are also friendly. If you dance, I bet they would like to dance with you. Snools may feel very hot in their body suits, but actually Kaxulla is a very cold place. If you go there make sure you bring a coat. There are four main Snools: Baby Yaga, Tuti Fruity, Axerpance, and Bob. They live in a secret cave in Kaxulla. Smools get to places by riding a Polar Smool. They sit on the Polar Smool backwards, and mentally tell the Polar Smool where to go. Smools smell like dead chicken. The reason is that Snools eat chicken every day, and they are very messy. So if a Snool invites you to eat dinner with them, make sure you take a shower after that. Snools are often very shy. They donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t give speeches or read anything in front of a crowd. But sometimes they are very loud. They sometimes go on top of a tall iceberg and scream very loudly for six hours. Snools love ice cream. If you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t like ice cream you are forbidden to stay with the snools. If you are allergic to ice cream you have to eat frozen yogurt or sherbet.

OUT THE WINDOW, A SHORT STORY Robyn Reeder Grade 5, Boise One peaceful summer night, Violet lay in her bed trying to sleep, when suddenly the peace was broken by a terrifying roar from outside her window. She jumped out of bed and raced from the sound. Outside her window was a lion as big as her house! She ran from the image and tore into her parents’ bedroom to find them still fast asleep. Violet quickly woke them and asked, “Did you hear that?” “What?” her mom asked, just as the loud roar came again. “That,” Violet said. “That? Why are you so scared of your dog barking?” Her mom asked, puzzled. “That’s not my dog. That’s a crazy giant lion! Come see.” They went over to the window and looked out. “See, it’s only your dog,” her mom replied. But Violet has seen a giant lion, so she insisted once again, “No, that’s a giant lion.” “You must be hallucinating.” Her mom said, “Go back to bed.” Knowing she was not hallucinating she went to her window and watched the giant lion for the rest of the night. At daybreak a brilliant flash came, and suddenly the lion was gone. In its place was her dog. Relief swept over Violet, and even though it was very early she ran outside and hugged her dog fully and deeply and with love. She knew, in that embrace, that they would live happily ever after.

BLOP, THE DREAM GIVER Rebecca Mecham Grade 5, Caldwell The Beginning “Okay, my work for the night is done,” said Blop, the sweet dream worker. When he got back to his doghouse he went to check his sweet dream library. But, instead of sweet dreams being there he saw that someone had changed them all to bad dreams. And there stood Grandma P. “Grandma P!” Screamed Blop, as he stepped forward quickly, charging for the woman. But, Grandma P. was too quick, and she darted out the door and into the dark woods. All Blop could hear were the wolves howling and the trees swaying, and he knew with certainty that he had lost her again. Yet, Blop also knew that he was crafty, and smart, and that soon enough he would catch Grandma P. and change her heart for good. He didn’t know just when, but he knew it would happen sometime, sometime soon. To be continued...

THE EYE Bella Williams Grade 5, Boise I see an eye looking at me, And it looks like a short colorful tree. Around me I see all squares and lines, But this one is unique because it is mine. Mine has circles and dark, rich colors, too, But on the back, red, pink, and blue.

RIVER RELIEF Preston Bied Grade 5, Boise It was a nice day in the month of July. So darned hot, but let me tell you why. The sun was shining very bright, And it was even hot in the middle of the night. On a walk I saw a river big and bold, And when I stepped right in, boy it was cold. All the bright colors like a coral reef, And that day I had relief, sweet river relief.

TEARS OF DARKNESS Hana Fujino Grade 5, Boise Crying helps me get over all fears of darkness. Tears of darkness help me feel as if I were new again. They drain sadness from my mind and body. Forgetting death and hunger will make my world nearly perfect. It will be bright like the sun shining only on me. Tears of darkness are not always horrible, but sometimes light.

THINGS THAT YOU WILL SEE IN THE CENTER OF THE EARTH Samuel Gillespie Grade 5, Boise I am going to the center of the earth. There are very many strange creatures there. For instance, there is a very strange looking bear that seems as if he were made out of sweaters, a fury polka dotted monster and the leader strutting back and forth. And there are sound suits so big and abstract wearing socks that do not suit them. The leader of the Sound Suits is covered in toys and wears footies that cover his whole body. They do a very funky interpretive dance. Another one of the monsters is the flower man. He is vey self-obsessed. I wish I had a sound suit. The monsters also ride on yarn bears. I know, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s all very strange. That concludes my telling of the things that you might also encounter. So please come to the center of the earth.

PIG AND RABBIT Allison Young Grade 6, Boise Pig and Rabbit have been friends for a long time. Now Pig has to go to a different farm And Rabbit travels to Mississippi. He jumps across three states to get to Pig. He meets a lot of animals along the way. He goes to another farm. Finally gets to Pigâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s farm. The owner adopts Rabbit.

SMOKE AND FIRE Elaine Henson Grade 5, Boise My name is Sarah. I woke up one morning, I smelled smoke and fire. I felt my door, it was hot. I ran out of my room. My house was on fire! I was so scared! I ran down stairs, picked up my dog and cat and ran out of the house. Everyone was okay but the house wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. We just stood there, watching the house burn. We would have called 911 but our phones were inside our burning house. No one dared to go in. The fire caught the grass on fire. Everyone else in our neighborhood was at work so we could not call on their phones. I could not take it any more. I ran inside the burning house. My parents screamed so loud and begged me no to go in. I did it anyway. I had a very hard time trying to get to the kitchen to find the phone. I found the phone. I grabbed it. It was burning a lot. I ran to get an oven mitt in the cupboard. The handle was hot but I got the mitt. I grabbed the phone. I was not sure if it would work after being so hot! I tried to make my way to the front door but the fire was so big. I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think I could get out but I had to toughen up! I ran through the fire, hurting so bad, but I had to get that phone to my mom! When I finally got outside I was so burned up that my clothes and hair were black. My mom said I was still on fire so I rolled on the grass. My mom was so grateful that I did not die in the burning and smoking house. I was so grateful also but I am kind of glad that it all happened. Well, not glad but it turned out that we were going to move anyway. All of our stuff did not burn because my mom did call 911 and the firemen came and put out the fire. There was smoke

everywhere. Lucky for us it also rained after. So the firemen left and it was all good. We moved and everything turned out great. I love my new house more than my old one. I thought I would miss my house but I don’t at all. I am so happy.

SHADOW CHASERS Erin Poppenga Grade 6, Eagle I snuck down a dark aisle leading to a wall surrounded by trash cans. A cat leapt from a can and raced behind me. I jumped on a trash can and tried to reach the wall but I couldn’t. A figure moved behind me. I looked around. A shadow of a man holding a gun! He fired but I dived out of the way. My shadow was hit. On the ground, I watched it kneel over and lay still. A few days later in court… “Who killed this maiden?” “I don’t know,” I said, “All I saw was a man holding a gun.” Out of the shadows stepped a man holding a gun. Him and his shadow showed the same sneering expression. “I did it!” He said.

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL McKenna Smith Grade 5, Boise Oh Miss Teacher lady, I explained I’m sorry I am late today A rhino smashed my alarm clock And the bus took a vacation, believe it or not. I called my pet Monkey named Bob He said I was going to be late So I got on my pet lion and We went as fast as we could But the traffic was harsh. Finally I got to school And there was a massive parade going on That is why I’m so late. Miss Teacher lady You’re not late, class is starting right now.

EVERYTHING Maeve Pierson Grade 5, Boise The newly painted wall was as smooth as snakes that eat strawberries that are blue. While the flowers smell fresh as fruit. I know all about roses. You may not know, but breaking a world record is harder than it looks, especially when it has to do with a green jacket. Are you looking for anything in particular? Because this poem has everything!

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THE ACHING VOICE Majerle Sparrow Grade 5, Kuna My voice My voice whispers inside of me. “Don’t do that, choose the right thing to do.” You have a voice somewhere too But it aches if you do the wrong thing. You choose which fits you best. You have a voice inside there I bet it is like a whisper. It comforts you each day It stays there and never goes away. It comes mostly from your heart You have it from the start So don’t quit Use The Voice.

GREEN WATERMELON Edith Ireland Grade 5, Boise I like green watermelon, but boys don’t. Boys often change their minds when they become men. If you want to buy green watermelon then you can go to the special store that only sells green watermelon and black leather bags. Their hours of service are from 6 am-1 pm. The store smells like dirt, and the ropes at the checkout feel like cold, metal snakes. It should only take a minute to get there. Just say Green Watermelon to get there. When you want to go back, say Black Leather Bags. 101

THE OTHER END OF THE LINE Addie Robison Grade 5, Boise What? Kleenex. September 6, 2011? Fire. Okay Okay. Kleenex on fire. Say that last part again? Black banana. Oh, I see. One night it smells like lots of plants. Yeah, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m looking for a job now. It tastes like nothing. Okay bye.

RIVER RELIEF Klora Thueson Grade 5, Boise I step into the river Cold washes over me As I splash crystal clear water on my face And sink my aching feet in sand. Smell the sweet trees and rich dirt. Take in the air, utterly fresh and clean. Then my stress collapses And I am swept away in nature. I bathe in the golden sunlight, True river relief.

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DEAR HUMAN Zoe Carr Grade 6, Boise Welcome to my nightmare. I have been running from hunters, poachers, and my brother’s wife since, well, what year is it? 2012? Then for 61 years! I dread to say this, but I’m Big Foot’s brother. The only way I’m getting this to you is through my grandson, who somehow, I don’t know how, is human. Oh no! I hear them coming! The poachers! Gotta run! Save me! HELP! - Anonymous

THE GATHERING Blake Stigile Grade 5, Boise Fish come from town to town to the special gathering from blue to orange to black to brown telling everyone about the gathering. “The gathering is by the vase!” Says one “Of course it’s there, everyone knows that!” But this is not true to one— in other words, this one is a bat. After awhile the gathering comes to an end then suddenly, the bat comes down quickly and all fish twist and bend to try and get away from the thing. From that day on They were gone.

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WATERS Frances Shafer-Coffey Grade 5, Boise All different colored rocks so hot they’re almost melting stripped or not the shimmering water just falls over. The rocks through the glowing canyons around the gold mountains fall with little care. Thunder shakes the rocks. Resting? There is none. Just crashing waters everywhere.

DIFFERENT YET THE SAME Nathan Avey Grade 5, Eagle In the wild west there is a trash can that breathes oxygen while saying, “Keep your dollar.” And, “Cupcakes appeal to the child in all.” While throwing neon orange soccer balls that are as soft as leaves that are as soft as silk when Owen smells like the ocean. 104

CHINESE SISTERS Conner Protzman Grade 5, Boise Dancing in the moonlight The Chinese sisters were Holding fish from the river As they were told not to. The moon looked down on them And thought, “Such foolish children, Don’t they know the rules?” Then in the morning, the girls tried to dance Only to find they couldn’t dance any more.

WHERE HADES LIVES Tao Roberts Grade 5, Twin Falls Be still as a rock. Be dead. Ride a bronco that says,“Hello,” Say to the dog there,“Your symbol is 3 bones.” “Yep,” said the dog. Fly up high. Have clones. Live forever. Say, “Hi,” to Hades for me.

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ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMATOES Owen Klausman Grade 5, Driggs I have purple nose hair! I also have pink toenails and super powers. I turned the school into a candy shop and it’s all free. I also saved a town called Sugar City. (It’s called Sugar City because every store is now a candy shop.) Okay, there used to be a tomato that scientists were trying to genetically modify. First they infused tiger blood, toad hearts, and desert dust, mixed with the feathers of an African swallow and the droppings of a komodo dragon. The tomato exploded and became a monster because the first tomato turned every tomato in New York into one of him. So me and my pet wolverine Ricky Bobby took up a plan. We ran to the rescue…I shot him with my laser beam. It went right through his chest and it just reformed him. He drove right through his legs and fell on all the other tomatoes. It killed them. Before Ricky Bobby left, he said, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.” TEN YEARS LATER I was abducted by aliens. It turns out the aliens just wanted to sell me lemonade and cookies so I bought them and they dropped me off in a pilates studio in Canton, Ohio. I stepped outside and the police mistook me for Jon McAnnertiner. They pulled out their guns and shot me in the butt. I managed to get away but now I’m stuck in the middle of the forest with a piece of lead in my butt.

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NATALIE Natalie Phillips Grade 5, Meridian Nat likes nutritious stuff like apples and pears. At the time activities Are fun, There is talent in her like soccer and acting. Always an awesome Leap she can lower Anytime Into a really infinite Time. Even though I am An easy going girl Practice is perfect for A soccer game. Having all the ham for A delicious treat. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll try to impress Life by living strong. Live my life well by Playing soccer. In time inner peace will be The best in me. Peace is perfect like a calm River. Silly is super like a best friend.

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TO BE SOMETHING ELSE Sophia Burrow Grade 6, Twin Falls The book wants to be a writer, creating its own stories. The stories want to be a lazy cat that does nothing. The lazy cat wants to be a football player who scores the winning touchdown. The football wants to be a beautiful six layer cheesecake with raspberries on top. The cheesecake wants to be a wedding dress that sparkles. The wedding dress wants to be a red party mask. The party mask wants to be a pair of dangling earrings. The earrings want to be a detective solving mysteries. The mystery wants to be a pair of black stilettos. The stilettos want to be a red rose with sharp thorns. The rose wants to be a silk dress. The silk dress wants to be a singer singing her song.

LEAVES’ STAGE Mari Bjorneberg Grade 5, Hansen The voices softly whisper as they dance in the breeze. They don’t need scripts or dress rehearsals, just the wind. No teacher, director; the wind is all of those so it’s just the wind.

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SUNRISE CAKE Kelby Andrew Grade 6, Twin Falls In the black of night, a yellow peaks over the hills. A pink follows, chasing the first layer of sunrise. White splatters start to come out of hiding. Big and small, short and tall. Another layer of sunrise follows. Burnt, crisp orange. At this point, the colors mix together. A lovely sight it is. The sky looks as if it could be a fruity cake. The clouds start to form shapes of all different sizes. A rose, a box, a hand. The final layer is settling in. Sky blue. The blueberry layer of the cake. The layers, fluffy and creamy. Lemon, strawberry, orange, blueberry, the layers are full. The top of the cake is pushing away. Whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s left of it? Blue. Blue for the rest of the day.

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YELLOW Alicia Easterday Grade 5, Buhl It is the color of badly treated grass, a yoke of an egg, the sun during the day, a drawn smiley face, a flower that expresses happiness. It sounds like laughter, and a person humming, the sound of bark when you step on it. It tastes like chicken, long spaghetti noodles, and yellow chalk. It feels like fuzzy cloth, old wood, and cake. It could make someone go camping.

ROSES Katherine Wheeler Grade 6, Twin Falls Red, pink, yellow, orange, and more. Oh, lovely roses, swarmed with honeybees. Smelling like cotton candy, and of sugar. I sit beside them, trying to discover their secret, then I decide that secrets are secrets best left to the people they belong to, and walk away. But I can tell that in the back of my mind, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m still trying.

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THE COLOR OF COMFORT Amelia Wheeler Grade 6, Twin Falls Shadows. My closed eyes. Outer space. Outline against the sun. It sounds so like my sister breathing while I am asleep. Like a rocking chair—quiet, steady until it’s time to get up. It tastes like things I have not yet tried, like things unknown—odd new, unimaginable. It feels like my pillow, like the screen of the TV—smooth, cool, and soothing. The color can raise curiosity like a dog who hears footsteps. It can cause peacefulness, restfulness. It can hide you from those who wish you harm, and provide a place where you do not need to do the things you do not want to do—or stuff you want to.

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I AM ALONE Raegan Bowyer Grade 6, Twin Falls I am a doll abandoned by my master, thrown under a ripped up cot. My dress is dirty, my hands are as cold as a piece of petrified fire. The house I live in has mold growing on the walls, and the clay of my skin is chipped and cracked. However I do not want to leave this house. Then a door slams and a gust of wind lifts me off the granite floor.

POETRY Arlie Bledsoe Grade 6, Boise Poetry is like a butterfly. It is hard to capture but when you do, it is beautiful. Poems have the ability to do anything. Poems can soar like an eagle they can take you to exciting places. When I read poems I go to different worlds. To write poems you must use your imagination. When you write poems, there is no limit to what you can do. Poems always make you think. Poetry is like a moonbeam. You cannot hold it in your hand yet it is still amazing.

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POETRY Hank Strand Grade 5, Boise Poetry is like a cool breeze. Poems have strength like a lion. Poems spring into the air. When I read poems I burst with different feelings. To write poems you must be patient. Poems are always different in different ways. Poetry is a waterfall falling into the sky forever.

POETRY Dillon Rushton Grade 6, Boise Poetry is a flower in a patch of burnt ground. Poems have the power to change anyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mood. Poems can laugh in the darkest of places. Poems can stop a war in its rage. When I read poems it makes even my darkest days light. To write poems you must read poems and to read poems you must have imagination. Poems always let you through the door to happiness. Poems are the clouds that move so the sun can shine. Poetry is a child playing in a world of no worry.

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THIS HILL IS FLAT Amelia Board Grade 6, Boise This hill is flat like an acorn cap, like the mist on a hot summer day, like a waterfall over the moon to wash away the stars and to put out the sun. This hill is flat.

THE SOUR CREAM ACCIDENT Ciara Kelly Grade 5, Boise So much depends upon socks filled with sour cream that Savannah and friends wore while dancing to jazz music. Every time Savannah takes a step the audience can hear her, feel her, and start to smell the sour cream. Every time Savannah takes a step it feels like walking through mud with bare feet. The sour cream smelled like a skunk that died. The dance was awesome. Everybody loved the dance until something happened. The dancers were stunned. The crowd was stunned. One dancer took a leap and a sour cream filled sock landed on a old man’s head. Savannah and the others exchanged glances. “Tada!” Savannah and the others yelled.

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PEACEFUL Kennedy Watts Grade 6, Ketchum Blue like the sky in midday, like tulips in the garden, like blue paint touching the canvas. It happens whenâ&#x20AC;Ś I smell the ocean, the breezy wind, the blue frosting on the cupcakes waiting to be eaten. It sounds like the waves crashing onto shore, like a quiet classroom, like a pencil writing across paper. It tastes like the first raindrop that touches the tongue, like chocolate, like the color green. It feels like the soft snow, the silk sheets, the combed hair. Peaceful.

HOW TO BE A LEAF Liberty Mermerian Grade 6, Boise People think I smell bad and everyone thinks I am small, but what I want to do is rule the world but first I will become rich by stealing all the diamonds in the world then I will sell them all at the price of $1,000 and then I will let everyone come to my house and they will see what a grand house I have and they will see how much money I have then they will trust me and I will brainwash them and I will brainwash all the animals in the world.

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ODE TO THE LITTLE RIVER Emma Lago Grade 6, Hailey The river carrying the ripples across the rocks Carefully picking up dust Ripples skipping over each other in a race to get to the end The current trying to keep a wave upon the sand Leaves creating pictures on the smooth country waves Shadows of minnows carrying hope, such little pride The river water cold as green orchids, Roots dwell in its mass and grow beyond the sand Bridges of rocks tracing the water

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Willows peeping over to get a peek of the wonders he has made The water like a kick drum beating against the bowed trees In the river.

BROKEN Josie Saleen Grade 5, Bellevue The raspberry falling apart in my hands, a beeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s pollen, a tear in the plastic wrapper, broken fingernails, an earring, a plate falling to the floor, a glass shattering. Splintering wood, broken hair, a heart, a friendship, the single trampoline spring, the ink breaks apart from its dear pen thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s held him so close before, the sprinkler shooting water from the beloved sides of the hose, the sharpener breaks apart the pencil, as a scab of lead heals itself. Peace broken with war, two shells of a coconut. So many things to be broken.

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KATARA Justice Mermerian Grade 6, Boise What has happened to my poor little dog? Spun around and around till she is dizzy. Racing away, from my dad “Whew,” she thinks “what can be worse?” As she chews a sock. All of a sudden “NO!” My dad booms. Racing away from my dad she runs to my room and finds an open box full of string. She unravels a ball. All of a sudden “NO!” my dad booms Racing away from my dad, she runs to Libby’s room, and finds a teddy bear that used to be pink. Ruby poor Ruby. She finds her and chews her up. All of a sudden, “NO!” my dad booms. Racing away from my dad. 118

A BURNING BUILDING Ruby McFerrin Grade 5, Boise A burning building flaming up smoke rising up in the air a person looking off into the distance chairs being tipped over by the wind empty chairs waiting to be filled a burning building flaming up the trees are waving in the wind a tree has fallen over a person looking off into the distance blankets waving from the powerful wind pillows flying in the air a burning building flaming up people shouting and yelling firefighters working hard and fast a person looking off into the distance the fire building up and getting stronger all the people yelling except for one a burning building flaming up a person looking off into the distance.

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JHON CHING Seth Moore Grade 5, Boise Jhon Ching was a very imaginative man. He desired only trust. His goal was to have us win the war with his weapons but the people did not trust him for he was always hiding his face. One day he wrote a letter to his mother about how things were going. “The cows need new shoes,” he wrote, “But I made some in the free time I had. Old woman Wong passed away. Very sad. She made me some cookies. I hope you can visit this year.” - Jhon Then the caller came to his house and said he was wanted at a meeting. Jhon was flabbergasted. He had never been to a town meeting before! He was so excited he lost his letter to his mother. He ran to the meeting room to see what was going on and saw them talking about how they had no money. He walked in and they fell silent. He sat down and they said they had been debating how to get money. They decided to share everything they got...

TO ACT LIKE AN IRRIGATION BOX Jade Schachtell Grade 5, Boise It is hard enough to be a rock, but harder, is to go through 5 factories and be put down 100 places and not be able call it your home. And be walked upon a thousand times and have the same water for a year. Now just think if that would be hard. Don’t ever be an irrigation box.

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BUTTERFLIES Emily Vandenberg Grade 5, Bellevue I was formed by climbing trees and looking down below, everything like ants on the ground. The way my cousin says Helicopters, hacatacos. My uncle’s house. and the way it always smells like dog bones. By catching butterflies at my grandma and grandpa’s house, and the way they whisper as they flutter by. I was formed by going to Disneyland and having so much fun riding the rides, how my face feels like it’s blown back, and stretched out, like a tree bending in a storm. The way Avery says chipmunks, munk chunks by Grendle and how tough she is. I was formed by the willow trees swaying back and forth, and the colors purple and gold, the Lakers.

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PICTURE THIS Yell outloud at the top of your lungs, “That’s one happy muffin.” — NIKITA OTTO, Grade 7

PEACE SIGN Aiden Curtin Grade 5, Boise

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THE RUNAWAY BODY Alaina Holland Grade 8, Boise

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GIVING COLOR Alyssa Jones Grade 9, Boise

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CREATURE Anna Kochaver Grade 5, Boise I am purple and yellow I am quite mellow I have lots of fur I do not say brrr I am a special fellow I have one eye I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tell a lie I am quite warm Under my fluffy form My favorite food is pie I am a magical creature I have a remarkable feature I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have a nose I like the smell of that rose I live under the baseball bleachers

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I REMEMBER Ashley Ascuena-Mercil Grade 6, Boise

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CAPTIVE Breanne Grondahl Grade 9, Boise

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STORY Camden Mullens Grade 5, Boise The quest The problem The war The tiara The death The blood The tear The brave The scared The wound The valley The truth The fright The weapon The star The cave The fall ball The dead

The mean The goddess The forest The boastful The kind The terror The friend The cry The sad The mad The alone The abandon The creator The monster The rain The brother The leopard The armor

The caring The knife The bow The arrow The adventure The life The eye The name The enemy The love The hate The quiver The rock The message The trees The Father The Mother The army

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THE BIKE Cate Knothe Grade 6, Boise It was a day in late June, my birthday to be exact. As always, I got a cake and balloons. Of course, I got presents, but they were mostly clothes. My favorite gift that I got on that day was a bike. This bike was neon pink with a huge purple seat. It only had two wheels, which scared me a bit because I normally use training wheels. I was excited to ride it so very much. I thought I could conquer it, now I know not. I put on my helmet and got on the bike. My foot pushed off the ground...I soard, I flied. I flew through the air until my tire wobbled and I fell down to the ground. I smiled and picked up my bike and started it all over again.

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CHEESE IS AWESOME DUDE Cece McLaughlin Grade 9, Eagle

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POLICE BOX Dashiell Jones Grade 8, Rupert

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ONE DAY IN TOKYO Ean Vatcher Grade 5, Star

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MY EGG Catherine Waddell Grade 6, Boise

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HORSESHOE HANK Emory Gaddis Grade 5, Boise One day Horseshoe Hank was randomly shooting different targets when he saw a horse. The only thing standing in his way was the owner. He slowly took out his gun and shot it into the sky. The owner freaked out and ran off! Then Horseshoe Hank grabbed the horse and rode off.

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HONEY BEES Avery Hormachea Grade 5, Boise I felt the rough wheat brush against my bare feet as I ran toward the shelter. There were three, 50 feet tall, 30 feet wide, with five stories each. It seemed big, it was necessary for a tribe of 200 people living in the storm country. I could smell the rain closing in quickly as I ran into the second storm shelter and up three flights of stairs to my family. They were all huddled in a corner, shivering as I approached them. “Are you all okay?” I asked. “We’re fine, just hungry,” my mother answered, her voice quaking. I quickly removed 5 or 6 fish cakes out of my pocket I had grabbed before I left. I passed them out to my brother, sister, mother and father, saving one for me. As soon as I bit into it, a salty, bitter taste entered my mouth. It wasn’t much, but it’s all we had. We were like honey bees, working and working all day long for nothing. But I promised my family their freedom, and I don’t break promises. The second I finished my cake I heard thunder shake the building. We huddled together tighter, this wasn’t the first storm, but it was definitely the worst. We sat there for hours, packed in tight like sardines in a can. Finally, the rain slowed to a soft patter. I peeked through a crack in the wall to see if the storm was gone. What I saw took my breath away. Outside gently painted on the dark sky was a beautiful rainbow. I gasped. Rainbows, in my tribe, are known to bring out good luck. But all I could think about was my family’s freedom. I hustled them towards our campsite a mile away. But when we got there we saw the most peculiar sight. Five or six white men on horses were slowly walking around our campsite, looking through my family’s tent, the smallest and plainest of them all. It’s a simple reason why we are so poor; our tribe is filled with greed. The rich people, including our tribe leaders, sit around all day while the poor people are forced to cook all the food, do all the hunting and 138

serve the rich. But all that was about to change. After crouching in the bushes for 15 minutes, the tribe leader shakily stood and approached the white men. After a very long and tense discussion, three white men trotted over to us. One of them dismounted his horse and said to me “You and your entire family are coming with me.” His voice was low and rough. “W-Why?” I stammered, unable to speak. “Your tribe leader has sold you, you will be granted your freedom.” My jaw dropped. Part of me was furious, he had SOLD us! But, part of me was overwhelmed by happiness. We were free. We were no longer honey bees, we were now as free as birds.

THE POTION Estera Monoran Grade 5, Nampa The potion will make people listen to you. Put in thyme, lemon, lime, pepper, and one piece of hair. You will have to drink it all. It will all end in a year.

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CHEEZE Fletcher Neil Grade 6, Nampa

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LEWISTOWN MINE Louisa Goltry Grade 5, Boise I was in the mine when it was happening, it happened to me too. All the miners were dropping like flies. Each one being treated to lead poisoning. I was brought to the Lewistown Mine for admitting to car wrecking a mother and her 6 month old child. All of us mined for lead, gold, silver and zinc. It smelled like dust and oil throughout the long, dark tunnels. A black wire fence lined the entire mine, with guard towers on every corner. My cell was the first cell on the left side of the Prison tower, illuminating the sight of all the other cells. We had solid stone bunks to lie on. Every night I could hear all the cell doors closing. Clank! Clank! Clank! For breakfast in the morning they would bring us mashed asparagus and soggy cereal on a plate. It tasted like junk out of a dumpster. Every night when the guards were asleep I would chip away at the plaster on the floor with my metal spoon, making a hole that lead to the air shaft. And in the morning I would cover it up with my plate. The next day in the late afternoon we were all mining, the hot sun beating down, I could feel the sweat trickling down my forehead. One miner shrieked with pain as he fell to the gravel clenching his leg. Lead Poisoning. That night, I dropped my full body into the hole and climbed up through the air shaft, exiting out of the washroom. I waited behind the sink until a few guards passed. Then I ran through the gaping door, hopped the black fence, and never looked back at the mine. When the guards brought my mushy breakfast, they found a certain surprise.

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VERA PAYNE IS A VERY SIMPLE GIRL Madelyn Davidson Grade 7, Boise Vera Payne is a very simple girl. She does the same thing almost everyday. One day she went into her favorite store called Fuego. She had 30 dollars and saw a sundress. When she walked over to it she thought to herself “100 dollars for a sundress? Are they crazy?” Then she thought, “I have a large purse, don’t I? I could fit that in there.” So she went to the dressing room, where there were no cameras and no store clerks. She knew they don’t check the dressing rooms right after someone leaves so she knew they wouldn’t notice the dress gone. But, what she didn’t know was she didn’t get the whole dress in her purse and that some of it was still sticking out when she walked out. So that night, when the manager was looking over sales and checking stock she noticed one sundress was missing and not sold. She asked everyone who worked there how many dresses they sold that day and every time they went over it they were always one short. They decided to search the videotape from that day and they saw Vera Payne walk out of the dressing room and they noticed something sticking out of her purse. They looked at the pattern and saw it was the missing dress. The next day Vera wore the dress not knowing that she would soon regret ever even looking at the dress.

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IF THERE WAS EVER A VOYAGE Grace Rogers Grade 8, Boise

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ERASURE Gryffen Snyder-Chavez Grade 8, Boise

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SPOT Gwyneth Webster Grade 5, Boise

Hello, my name is Spot and I am black and pink. Today I am going to tell you why I was named spot. I went shopping a while back and saw a gorgeous dress, loved it and bought it. It was so soft, fluffy and 90 degree F warm, so I wore it everywhere, even to sleep. I would never take it off unless I needed to shower or wash it. (Then I would wear a shirt and pants.) One day it became my skin and someone decided to start calling me spot because my skin was covered in spots! That is why my name is Spot.

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EQUINOX Hanna Dalsoglio Grade 9, Boise A stifling ache relaxes Over my little cabin, A rough blanket that traps in the cold, And seeps into my bones. Out my window, I see Winter, His hulking shoulders and heavy paws Crunching softly on his snow. After months of cold, with No one but the cockroaches for company, I see a sign. The forgotten kite at the foot of my bed Regains color. The piano in the parlor sings again. I rush to my window and see him. Spring bounds swiftly through the snow, Clinging to his little felt hat that Barely clears the snow drifts. Winterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s snow shrinks away from him, Making way for fresh, green grass. I grin as a small pine tree perks up At his gentle touch.

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A roar echoes from Winter As he spots Spring. He will not melt away willingly, But Spring is ready to challenge him. Feeling returns to my toes As the battle And the sour taste of cold leaves my mouth. Spring emerges Victorious. He tips his hat to me As he rides off On the bear of winter.

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COMING FOR YOU Ian Wood Grade 9, Boise You knew I was coming little one, didn’t you? The screaming among the masses The busses with my face on them The saving of money Hundreds of cars piled up The lights dance in the sky In my presence The sound of the key-tars echo in the night White is my visage, white as fresh snow I will swoop from the sky for you Little one, not unlike Peter Pan And for a moment all You’ll hear are the cicadas buzzing Then you’ll see my hand reach Out, gloved and in the light It dazzles across the sky The vast IHOO marks the end My kidneys hurt little one A sudden cold brushes your shoulders But outside you see Palm trees, walruses decorate Your floor, your life, so Very Very Bitter

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EYE Jackson Neuhoff Grade 7, Boise

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CYCLOPS James Wadner Grade 7, Boise

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SOLID GROUND Samantha Schabot Grade 5, Boise Things you probably don’t want to hear your friends admit when you’re falling to your death.

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SONG OF AUTUMN Joanna Hancock Grade 9, Boise The sun, warm and bright shone over the luscious green grass. The flowers turned their faces to its warmth, longing for its comfort. A caterpillar, waited in its cozy cocoon, for the day it would soar. I watched as the clouds floated lazily across the bright blue sky. It was then that a wind blew in. A chilling wind that smelled of apples. I breathed in the scent, eyes closed and opened to see a creature standing before me. A large bear, all clad in sweaters and up on his hind legs he was giving me a silly smile. In his hand was a peculiar amber violin. I watched transfixed as he raised the violin to his chin and brought the bow to the strings. Running his bow smoothly across the strings, a low, resonating and calm sound filled my ears. I sighed and I saw the leaves in the trees rustle above me. A high and soaring note followed, a squirrel came to observe. The great bear looked at me, smiled then played. Beautiful notes intertwined together, lifting my heart into a state of bliss and as the music began to quicken, so did the wind. Pulling my hair every which way like a thousand tiny bugs. Above, the oak tree turned splendid shades of orange and red. The music turned into a jig and the leaves began to dance to the ground. 152

A mocking jay sang a sweet tune to accompany the bearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s music. I ran my hands over the crunchy, colorful leaves feeling their paper-like flesh. A wind whipped by me and I shivered. I fetched my polka dot scarf, wrapped it snuggly around my neck, feeling its warmth. I stepped out onto the crackle of the leaves, the bear was nowhere to be seen, but autumn was already here.

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WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO MAKE A JOURNEY John Daniel Grade 8, Boise

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THE TORTOISE Josie Englert Grade 8, Boise

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MASHED POTATOES Kamryn Larsen Grade 7, Moore

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MY THOUGHTS ARE Keanna Irving Grade 9, Boise

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THE CHEETAH OF DESTINY Keenan Roark Grade 5, Boise

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GHOST BOY Luan Teed Grade 9, Boise

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WHEN YOU SLEEP Lucy Singer Grade 7, Boise

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BACKCOUNTRY Luke McLaughlin Grade 6, Eagle

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THE SPIRA Madeline Krause Grade 8, Boise It was quite clear why I had found you, child. When the teakettle screeched loudly without fire, a warm breeze flowed through the unopened windows and the tulips that had wilted and withered long ago, bloomed a fiery orange. Your poor heart must have skipped a beat, when I slipped into the room. I greeted you with a voice that was the calls of magpies and chattering squirrels. You were instantly entranced by the stunning flowers that were embedded in my skin. I left as suddenly as I had entered knowing you would follow. We dashed into the forest together, shoes tapping along the path of melted snow. Flutes and crickets hummed along as I so easily led you astray. You slowly began to freeze to death, with my gentle warmth an illusion. Sweet laughter turned to a crimson snow, you should have known spring wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t here yet. 162

THE LIGHTHOUSE Madison Gates Grade 6, Boise A light gleamed in the small space where the lighthouse reflection shined. It glowed on the water, acting like a spotlight on the lonely beach. Some say they have seen a womanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s face with flaming red hair. Now I see â&#x20AC;Ś

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MOTHER WINTER Madison Harms Grade 8, Eagle You have longed for me to come for you You wait for a single rose to bloom To taste sweet apples And for the white rabbit to come Into glance During the harsh winter I come to my children To stop the cold For chilling your kind heart I come with my flute Playing songs of warmth Leaves fly into the air Turning red and burning I give you a ride on my shining coat Warming your frozen heart Whispers of spring follow us As songbirds fly us To where the sun is red When winter is through I must return my loves As spring awaits for me Mother Winter

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OLD TIMES Maloree Barbera Grade 6, Boise Old times, Giant fish. Lots of food, Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s his wish. In a boat, On a lake. He will float, And hope for fish. Sit and watch, The big fish die. He caught a small one, Such a lie!

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CENTAUR Marguerite Andrich Grade 5, Boise I am connected to this equine animal, for I cannot play as the other children do. Around my stomach area, the brown fur tickles me, and sometimes I am afraid my upper body will tip me over. I feel free as a summer breeze, yet as captive as a house cat. I am trapped as two people. I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t reach my hooves like the other kids. I eat like them, but it upsets my stomach. Should I eat like a horse? Perhaps. But I would be more of an outcast. The starry night is my roof, and in the day I do not attend school, for I spend my time searching for my kind. If I find one, I pray it wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be a lonely as I. Together we can find out if the cow really jumped over the moon. Can a centaur?

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SOUNDSUITS Minjun Kwak Grade 5, Boise

What are sound suits? I’ll tell you what they are: some are really orange, and some go “boom!” and “crash!” The don’t have a neck space, and you need your lungs to dance in that sound suit, or in the summer you’ll be sweating. Some mammals cannot fit inside, especially blue whales. An airplane sound suit would be cool, but they don’t make those sound suits. Crickets on them would be weird, and also too many flowers. Some sound suits may have xylophones. They also might have food inside!

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BRANCHES Molly Freeney Grade 9, Boise Between two trees Our secrets lie Under the branches They come to die A secret forgotten Is a secret kept Save yourself, Take me instead Hide away, Away from the light Hunter by day Prey by night

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I AM JUPITER Natasha Otto Grade 7, Boise

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THE 5 THINGS TO DO IN A PILLOW Nikita Otto Grade 7, Boise Hide from the feather monster that will haunt you each night. Groan from the pain delivered each morning because someone was sleeping on you. Eat the crumbs of a honey wheat oatmeal bag to keep yourself from starving. Stalk Ralph’s snake to get on his nerves. Yell outloud at the top of your lungs, “That’s one happy muffin.”

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BLUE Paige Larsen Grade 5, Moore

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PETIE Petie Schill Grade 7, Boise

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BUTTON BOY Rachel Brendefur Grade 6, Boise One day, Button Boy went for a walk through the cold, crispy, winter forest. He had a new button suit, but the buttons were falling off. “Clink, clink, clink”—more buttons fell off. This was an odd forest, filled with cottonwood trees, cellos, and sweet candy bars. “Whoosh!” Button Boy stopped. “What was that?” Button Boy said to himself. “Whoosh!” Something went past him. “Slam!” In front of him in the white snow lay an eagle and a fly fighting with each other. “OK, then,” said Button Boy, and he walked around them. “Clink, clink, clink”—there went his buttons again. Button Boy was almost through the forest when all of a sudden a bird, the biggest bird Button Boy had ever seen, picked him up and took him out of the forest, across the deep dark lake, to its nest. But before they got there, Button Boy started to slip. His buttons had all fallen off. Only his silk suit was left. Button Boy fell, and fell. “BAM” Button Boy landed in the snow in front of his house. “My, oh, my—what was that?” Button Boy’s mom said before she saw him. “What happened? Oh, your suit!” Button Boy explained the story. His mom took him to Nick Cave to get a new suit. Button Boy never went into the forest again, and he lived a very happy life.

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THE KNOW-IT-ALL DANCER Leah Mokwa Grade 6, Boise “Holy cow, you expect me to wear this?! This?!” “Yes, Moneric; being a professional dancer, you need to be prepared to wear anything. We thought this would be perfect for you.” “All those colors make my eyes hurt, all the fluorescent greens, blues, purples, and yellows.” “You have to wear this to perform.” “Fiiine…what did all the other dancers say?” “They went along with it. As your manager, I insist you go along with whatever Pepito, your costume designer says.” “Okay.” “Hurry—we have to get you to your show!” “Okay, we’re here. Get me in my costume.” “Hello?! Didn’t I just tell you to be nice?” “Sorry, I just didn’t remember.” IN 5…4…3…2…1 HELLO, AND WELCOME TO BROADWAY IN THE LIGHTS! (Theme music plays: Do bo, do bo, na na na, na na nahhh, shack a shack, hunhh!) THE FAMOUS AMAZING DANCER HAS FALLEN ON HIS FEET, BUT DON’T WORRY, WE HAVE A BACK-UP! (Na na na na, nana nahhh) And Toby, the know-it-all dancer, ran away, never to be seen again. But the good news is we all got lollipops after the show.

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NATUREâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S WAY Lauren Garman Grade 6, Caldwell The squirrels run and jump They catapult on trees and plants They enjoy their life The birds fly and swoop They glide across the treetops They enjoy their life The foxes dash and They slink on the leafy ground They enjoy their life The deer flee and hop Frantically from a huge wolf They loathe their life The wolves slash their prey They patiently hunt their prey They enjoy their life The bears stuff down berries They hungrily eat their pretty They enjoy their life

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THE BOY, THE OTTER, AND THE BUTTERFLY Madeline Ryan Grade 6, Boise When the pale pink of summer Falls upon us like a falling quilt, The otter always hears The lullaby the Boy and his flute played That one summer On the muddy riverbank The otter nearly fell asleep Listening to all those shimmering notes One after another Leaving a trail of invisible beauty In the summer The butterfly watches She still remembers The boy and the magic wand Who had a lollipop Poking from the top of his Over-stuffed pockets Pluck a pink rose He did, squeezing it with his Fingers in between the thorns And he set it in the sand before His bare feet He played lovely music with his magic wand She fluttered past his freckled nose To smell his deliciously sweet Lollipop

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How can summer taste sweet? I always think it tastes like A watermelon Lollipop Every summer, I take my Flute and a watermelon lollipop Somewhere new and I Play the songs that have Collected in my brain Like old leaves gathering In the corner of a vast pool But I still remember the year I went to a muddy riverbank And played for the otter floating Nearby He seemed to love it I guess Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never know And I remember a tiny orange and pink Butterfly soaring past me As I raised the lollipop to My sore Lips

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DREAMS DO COME TRUE Gabby Keefe Grade 6, Boise Once, many years ago, there was a horse, not any horse, a dream whisperer. These horses go into your dreams and tell you that you can do something no one could ever do but you. They prove it is your confidence in yourself. The story begins with a girl named Olivia Chasher. She had a dream that she was the best vet in the world. Then, out of nowhere, she sees a horse, a whisperer. He was black as a cloudy night sky. She woke up. She was amazed! She had to go back to bed. She saw him walk into a portal. It whispered to her. She whispered back, and all of a sudden, her alarm clock went offâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;time for school. On her way to school, she whispered the song the portal sang.

INSIDE THE SUN Emily Kochaver Grade 5, Boise The door to the sun is very hot, and that is just where Nathan Jouns lived. He did not like to live in the sun; he got very lonely. He wanted to leave, but the doorknob was too hot. So one day, he subsided his fears and he kicked the door down.

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THE TASTE Grace Gaddis Grade 6, Boise As the clear rippled water slips past me, with fallen leaves and sticks, each its own raft, two butterflies swirl into the sky, with only the slightest wind. The hot, dry air absorbs the moisture from my tongue. I hear laughter and whispers, cars rush by, and the taste of green and brown touches my tongue.

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JUNE 17, 1805 Samantha Gipson Grade 5, Boise Dearest Journal, Today was the greatest day of my short life. Lewis and I left to hunt, like every normal day. The sun was still rising and it dyed the horizon a wondrous hue. The pinkish light bathed me in hope for good food. We treaded along Clawrip Valley for five-hour cycles. We killed twelve rabbits and two elk. Hunger rippled through me, so I went off to find something for myself. The smell of deer beckoned to me from a faraway clearing. I dashed toward it. The scent or ripped flesh grew stronger. Soon, I reached the source. The clearing was shaded by bushes. Cautiously, I padded onto it. Much to my surprise, there stood a grizzly! He was feasting on a bloody deer carcass. His pelt rippled with muscles. I was paralyzed with fear. Shock fell upon me like a lightening bolt. The beast stood up and roared like a demon. Fast as a whip, he lashed his claws at me. I was faster and leapt away. The bear grunted with frustration and crashed his massive body on the ground in front of me. Again, he had missed. The bear was furious. He snorted and raked his huge claws across my muzzle. I yowled for Lewis as scarlet seeped into view. I was enveloped in rage. I leapt onto the bearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s heavily muscled back and sank my fangs into his scruff. He howled in pain and gave in. I tore his throat. He gave a last gasp. Lewis crashed into the clearingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;he howled human words and stroked me. I was a hero. Sincerely,

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THE MAN-SPIDER Sarah Magbunduku Grade 5, Boise Walk in the city light. Avoid being swatted or stomped on. Wonder why Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m feared and hated and not the same. I wait for the sun to die and the moon to shine its light to do all my errands. The crowd disappears as it gets later. I wind my silk web and wait for dinner. I catch the wind and fly off on the glinting silk thread.

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CRISP AUTUMN AIR Sha Sha Kingston Grade 5, Boise

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IMMORTALITY POTION Sean Halford Grade 6, Boise Warning: No Antidote! Ingredients 1 cup ground unicorn horn Â˝ cup butterfly wings 3 cups dragon fire 1 t. sugar 3 t. salt 2 cups strawberry stems 4 cups ground tortoise shell Â˝ cup oak tree root Procedure 1. Thoroughly mix: unicorn horn, tortoise shell, and oak tree root. 2. Stabilize: dragon firs with strawberry stems. 3. Slather: butterfly wings with salt and sugar. Final Instructions Boil concoction 1 with concoction 2 at a temperature of 120 degrees F. Wait 20 minutes and then add concoction 3. If correct, potion should turn golden blue. Side Effects (Must Read!) Ground unicorn horn = growing many horns 78% Dragon Fire = flaming tongue 80% (after stabilization 50%) Ground tortoiseshell = scales 10% Oak tree root = tree powers 99% Warning: think carefully before drinking potion because it has no antidote.

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MY BLEEDING HEART Sophia Faraca-Alcade Grade 7, Boise It can show up anytime, anywhere whenever it wants. Spring blue skies turn pink. That indicates itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s near. You soon hear the haunting sounds of a large cello, ringing the word pain in your ears. The warm outdoors turn cold, and the bitter taste of dead leaves fill the air. My question is, what can I do to stop the haunting images in my head. 4 hours of time pass and a messenger appears from the darkness. Black crow. His pitch black feathers hide himself during the night. The spring butterflies are gone, the quaking aspens are gone too, and the rabbit colonies are missing. Beautiful is gone. BANG! The monster appeared that day. All I see now is darkness. I reach out my hand and I see nothing. All I see is the monsterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s face in the distance. All I feel is sadness, coldness, and My Bleeding Heart.

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THE WRONG TREE Elena McHargue Grade 6, Boise

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EXPLOSION Sydney Nelson Grade 8, Boise

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CROW MAN Zachary Cluff Grade 5, Meridian Crow man lives under the train-cave. Some nights he flies out. In search of that jewel that flies as he. Up, up, up but he can never reach it, and each night ends in disappointment. He fears the floating lights. They come too close every time and he must repeat his routine the next night. Some nights the jewel disappears. Many nights he cannot see it. The lights in the sky stop him from finding it. He must swoop back into the dark train-cave. By now heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hopeless. Beware if you have jewelry â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

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YOU KNEW Hanna Richards Grade 9, Meridian You knew I was coming for you, as my petals fell to the ground. You tried to run in your blue pj’s, running into the forest hitting fairies to the ground. Your heart thumped, as you dug into your first prey. Your little girl plays the flute, while you coughed with excitement. You tore off your denim jeans and got on the polar bear. A ladybug came and rested on one of the lily pads telling you of your next prey. It’s spring now and you’ve come out of your tent stronger than you’ve ever been. Licking your fingers until they are dry you still have the sour taste in your mouth, the guilt in your heart.

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URBAN INK The words read themselves, echoing back silently, yet underneath the silence, a story is told. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; RACHEL BLOCK, Grade 7

OCEAN Isabella Archibald Grade 8, Boise I can recall the burning hot sand scorching my feet as I walked onto the beach, the sigh of relief as I stepped into the clear blue water. I remember the beating sun: its rays dancing and sparkling off the top of the vast blue ocean. I recall diving down under the majestic waves and jumping up over them with a squeak of pleasure. I loved going out far and looking down at the coral reefs filled with amazingly colorful fish. I can recall that wonderful trip to Kaui as though I was still there, perhaps because I wish I still was.

MEMORIES Matt Ivanoff Grade 7, Boise I remember my Grandmaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eightieth birthday. I remember when my eighty-year-old Grandpa rode a motorcycle. I remember when I had a different teacher. I remember when our trampoline got carried by wind. I remember Universal Studios being my favorite amusement park. I remember learning how to ride a bike.

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A LONGING TO BE Lauren Britton Grade 7, Eagle I was formed by a longing to be something different in this world. To be unlike anyone else. I was formed by the tears and trials that I faced. The deep sorrow I seem to summon by will, and the laughter of friends laying in the snow. I was formed by the downfall of ideas that had a hard upbringing. By the rapids of my brain, swallowing stories and spitting them out anew, by my wild imagination that has led me astray. I was formed by the looks and taunts I received, doing what I was told and then being scolded. I was formed by the betrayals, always seeming to happen right when life was bad, making my life that much worse. I was formed by being different. How I never had what was considered â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;the food you had to have to surviveâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; by friends, and how I was left out in so many ways. I was formed by distance and longing, by triumph and loss, by imagination and the void of space in the back of your mind. And by a longing, despite my past, to finally be normal.

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NOT AS REAL Elizabeth Lee Grade 8, Boise Calling back the winter days, the snowy existence and hidden existence of Colorado, every image is as vivid as it was with the smoky wisps curling out the thin chimneys and the glowing red of our own fire. French doors envelop us in complete warmth, a world of hot cocoa and marshmallows and spinning chairs. The white outside doesn’t seem so cold when you look at it from behind a fogging window, and nothing seems as real behind that fireplace, wet socks drying on the other side.

THINGS TO DO IN A CEILING VENT Agnes McGinnis Grade 8, Boise Stare down at people form your lips in an ‘O’, and hoot like a owl. Listen in on people’s conversations and if they’re talking politics. Get a bowl of Skittles and make them rain from the ceiling. Then, while they’re still confused, crawl back to the ceiling in your room drop down onto your bed and realize how useful ceiling vents really are.

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THE FISHERMAN Rowan Pierson Grade 7, Boise Driving along the beach looking for the perfect spot, dark storm clouds manifest on the horizon, draw closer to the white sand. Giant dark waves with frothing mouths swallow the sand. He picks up his rod like a soldier heading into combat, and slowly walks into the dark water. He pulls back and thrusts forward, sending the clam and metal deep into the depths of the sea. Seagulls and pelicans dive into the surf like bombs raining from the sky. The pole bends to the point of breaking, resting along the top of the water, he pulls then reels, pulls then reels, to the beat of waves crashing. Finally with a last burst of energy, he lifts the three foot long Striper from the water and holds it above his head. He is one with the sea.

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WHAT’S MADE ME Isabelle Lusby Grade 7, Boise I was formed by the laugh of my mother, long and sweet; the sternness of my father, passed down for generations; my brother’s longing to play video games; the dog’s wagging tail, eager to jump in the river. I was formed by Michigan, the place I made my statement in; Kansas, thick, hot, humid air; Idaho, the place I call home, the place I love. I was formed by cracking winds, flashing lights shooting down from the sky; the bright sun shining down, boiling frost from the world. I was formed by flying, dancing, running, throwing, drawing, writing. I was formed by me.

THINGS TO DO WHEN YOU’RE FLYING Madison Nagel Grade 7, Boise Sing “I believe I can fly.” Pretend to squish people below you. Whip your hair in the wind. See if you have cell phone coverage. Text your friends and tell them where you are. Drop handfuls of confetti down on people. Wear a cape. Touch a cloud. Race a bird. Wave to people in airplanes. 199

I REMEMBER WHEN I FIRST MET MY BEST FRIEND Grace Mitchell Grade 8, Boise I can remember the smell of old crayons as my mother and I walked into the brightly lit classroom. There were toys everywhere, and kids. I remember the touch of my mother’s cool wrinkled hand as she soothed my fears away. The chair I sat in was blue and cool to the touch. The girl next to me turned and opened her bright blue eyes, smiling at me. I remember her blonde hair in two ponytails, stray pieces falling over her eyes as she hugged me and whispered, “We’re going to be best friends.” I could feel the vibration of her chest as she giggled.

I WAS FORMED Isaac Alsop Grade 7, Boise I was formed by the tight atmosphere of my family household. I was formed by endless forest that patched up my city. I was formed by my family’s past, present, and future. I was formed by rocky faces that covered all the mountains. I was formed by successes, failures, mistakes, and dreams that led my life. I was formed by stories, lessons, art and history. By fields, eternal mazes of confusion, I was formed.

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THE SPRING I WAS EIGHT Brittany Coffman Grade 7, Boise Although the rain still drenches our days, I still feel the flowers blooming, the snow and hail cowering, the sun rising out of the ocean, warming us through the cool breeze. A party in Hawaii with a scavenger hunt, we scoured the backyard for gold coins hidden under plants, behind rocks. Friends came together, cake and gifts galore. Now I am nine. The clouds lift to reveal the sun, though drops of water fill the clear sky. Leaves returning, greener than ever, shining their light to the world beautifully, stopping me in my tracks as the old leaves disappear. The flowers in my life are blooming huge, rose petals in the wind skittering across my vision. The flowersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; fragrances lift my chin and create natureâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s natural perfume of forever. Rain is fading like the clouds, the sun never dims its rays. Walking through the park, or running, thinking about beautiful spring.

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FORMED Madison Grant Grade 9, Boise I was formed by the soft glow of the sun hidden beneath the clouds, the mountains larger than my beginning. By the pain of my brother, lost before he could begin, whisked away into the heavens. By the sound of mountain lake water in waves as the night came. By the love and affection, whose hearts ache the most. By my ability to believe there is always a beginning. I was formed by earth feeling soil beneath my feet the sounds of the birds talking their strange language. By silence. To be still and calm, when there is the wrath of chaos. By forgiveness which I never earned, nor deserved. By warm hands and patient hearts that will always be within and beside me.

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MISSION 100 Alyssa Jones Grade 9, Boise His shoes were adorned with dirt on all sides. He silently swore to himself as he looked up the slope he’d fallen down. His name was Drake, he was about mid-thirties, and several yards below the surface. Drake pulled himself to a standing position, brushing as much dirt as he could off his vest, shirt, and pants. “Bah! I’ll get him sooner or later,” he spoke to no one in particular, “For now, I should find a way out of this pit.” Drake attempted to climb up the steep slope, but to his dismay found no footing. ‘I’m doomed here…”

THE PANDA Eliana Anderson Grade 7, Boise The panda I see is staring back at me. I see the love and hate of the people who create, the panda is the guardian of art. It protects it, if it was not there no art would be.

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I HAVE HEARD THE MERMAIDS SINGING Sophie Schwartzman Grade 7, Boise I have heard the mermaids singing. Their song is like the tinkling of bells. Their voices rise in a chorus and fill the ocean air. Their song is as quiet as the wings of an owl and as loud as a lionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s roar, as piercing as a knife and as soft as a lambâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s wool. Their song is like the cry of an innocent child. Their song is sweet like candy yet sour as a lemon. Full of beauty but also remorse at being forever trapped in the vast deep ocean. They sing like birds, they sing like the wind in your hair, the sing like the spray of saltwater in your face. They sing of hope, they sing of fear, creatures lost in myths. They sing of a land below, deep below, the sparkling blue ocean.

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I WAS FORMED Karl Zanot Grade 8, Boise I was formed by long hours in the gym. I was formed by smiling faces that greeted me every morning. I was formed by adventures at the river. I was formed by the frigid water of Lake Michigan. I was formed by the final seconds of a game. I was formed by throwing a touchdown pass. I was formed by.

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AT ONCE Sam Svoboda Grade 8, Arlington Hights, IL Driving to Wisconsin the walls a boiling furnace our faces stained with smiles. Two minutes in the chirping of a soda can, we don’t jump, but fall into the lake as if the water was running towards us. My father’s guitar blurred by a fire the flames dance to the mellow rhythms. The city, through the winter chill, wears only a t-shirt listen to Chicago’s voice which can tell you everything at once.

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MY IMAGINATION TAKES ME EVERYWHERE Nikita Otto Grade 7, Boise A wisp of cold winter air brushing past me. So cold, body frozen and numb to the core a raindrop splats onto my head like a snowflake falling down from stormy clouds planting into my scalp melting slowly as a candle disintegrating with one whiff of the wind. The snowflake soaks my hair, pulling every loose strand together. The walls of my imagination are yellowâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; yellow like a perfectly squeezed lemon, yellow like my banana-scented lip balm that I smack on my red cherry lips. The walls engulf me in a shiny golden ring. The distant children laugh, a sound of happiness lingers in the moist air. My imagination takes me everywhere. It can take me to the bottom of the sea, to the middle of the desert. My imagination can take me anywhere, I just have to believe it.

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BOISE BROKEN Aiden Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Gara Grade 7, Eagle At last, Boise, you are crying. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know if it is for joy or sorrow. I stood at the fountain, I saw whimsical flowers, spiky orbs in bloom, swords of green grass and small rocks, they were not as noticed or famous as the large boulders, yet perfectly content. I thought of innocent childhood. In the alley I turned into a stone lion I used to see, but now I observe, I used to know, but now I think and find out. Boise, what does time do to you and me? I see you erupting in tears. Somehow you are a beautiful geyser while you are as forceful as a boxer, when it starts to come out of you, there is no stopping it. Sometimes hearing your tears hit the ground entrances me and the pressure must be unimaginable. So, how long has time kept it in?

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He said… Suppose this is your heart, Boise. Suppose it is blue, like cotton candy. Suppose it isn’t broken, though it feels so. Suppose it is the center of power and life for you. Suppose this is where it begins. But I didn’t listen so I became a fish. I used to distribute, but now I receive. I used to see what is, but now I see what could be. Boise, I’m so confused… the sidewalk said to come, and, to become mesmerized and lost within the scripture etched forever into it. But things were falling apart. I saw a chink in the invincible armor. I heard your hushed whispers and secrets. I felt an interesting shade of happiness. Boise, what is on your mind? Boise, these tears make me think.

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LIVING DREAM Natasha Otto Grade 7, Boise I remember when I was a child walking on dirt hills and searching for scavenging rabbits. A bridge and underneath the bridge was an unknown kingdom, a mystical kingdom which helped my imaginary creaturesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; thoughts and pictures. Memories of falling into a bundle of weeds, but somehow getting back up. I remember running through a land with fairy tales in the grass. All the times I made up or wished came true. Because of the dirt piles, I have an imaginary Pictionary dream, all because of that one place that changed my world into a living dream.

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I WILL NEVER FORGET Sophia Faraca-Alcade Grade 7, Boise Sitting under the oak tree, the small tree fairies call home. The warm, vibrant sun beats down on my ten toes. Millions of horses run past me, I meet my army of ants by the river bay, they risk everything to keep my golden kingdom safe. Rainbows help lead the passing angels home, to sing their own lullabies. My world is to be open to passing travelers who yearn for freedom. I remember wishes coming true, but though they remain forgotten I will never forget.

QUESTIONS Emily Eppes Grade 7, Boise Whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hiding in the bushes? Why is there evil in the world? Who came up with the names for the colors? Who came up with the word attic? Why do things have to be complicated? Why do we need to keep track of the years? Why is there war?

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WAR AND HATRED Megan Rice Grade 7, Meridian As he explored through the quiet forest, he heard a voice. It came from a tall, proud tree his cane had hit by accident. This voice said slowly, “Please, refrain from doing that. Too many bad memories, as you know.” “What do you mean?” He said curiously. In his many years, he had never spoken with a tree before, and so was unfamiliar with their ways. “We’ve fought losing battles, against the men with cruel, screaming swords called chainsaws. I stood here and watched, helpless, as my brethren fell.” He understood what the tree meant, having been a soldier many years ago. The tree added, “There are new trees here now, but they are young, and do not understand war or death. I have been lonely many years. When I saw you I knew you could understand me.” He nodded. “I fought as a soldier many years ago. Many good friends died around me.” The great tree made a sighing sound, “And you hate the men who killed them.” It was a statement, not a question. “Yes,” He answered. “Don’t you?” The tree said quietly, “You are not wise, not yet.” It rustled its leaves, in a whispering sound of loneliness. “You asked if I hate the men who slew my own comrades. I did once, but over time I have realized that they were merely doing their job.” “I suppose your words have wisdom,” He said thoughtfully. “We were all just doing our jobs too. I sent many men to their graves myself.” The tree straightened, “Now you have started along the path to wisdom,” it whispered, and said no more.

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SPIRIT OF THE CITY Diane McGovern Grade 7, Boise The Sprit of the City is in the heart of which I stand. It rises up with the fountain & with the mist it blows and spreads in the breeze. The birds dive in its clear air & the people live in its dusty apartments. People wander on bike and foot through the cityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s veins. Coffee shops & gift stores scattered around. The smell of freshly baked cinnamon bread wafts from a nearby bakery. People casually chat with warm coffees in their hands. The large wise trees circled around the heart are as tall and proud as the city itself.

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THE GROVE Jillian Valdez Grade 9, Boise The fountain, she is the first thing that grabs hold of one’s attention. She is the center. She wants to be noticed, and she is. She puts off an almost musical rhythm as her water crashes on the bricks. She is loud, but she is more than calming. The fountain, She, doesn’t accept the word, “No.” The queen is a cross between good and evil. Everyone wants to be her supporter, but she is picky. She will only let one be her supporter to better the whole. Her mightiness is too great. The queen hasn’t the time to deal with those who won’t better her. The best support the queen has are her knights, or the trees. This is because the knights are young and easily manipulated. Tricked into thinking the fountain is their all and that they have nothing without her. The trees are knights, are free to do what they please, but they do have restrictions. Their support comes from their arrangement. Things are more powerful in groups. Because the knights are in a close, neat circle, they form a superior group. Not too great though, because no one can overpower her mightiness, the queen. The second-best support comes from bricks or the royal subjects. The royal subjects, like the knights, give their support by arrangement. Because the bricks are laid perfectly in-line, like puzzle pieces, they are strong. Some of the royal subjects, however, offer more support than others. The closer the royal subject is to the queen, the more support it can give her, and she likes them. Naturally, if the brick is further away from the queen she isn’t fond of it because it can’t support her as well as the others.

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The least amount of support comes from the wind, or as the queen calls it, her peasants. The peasants do what they can when they can. The queen rarely calls upon the peasants, but when she does it is because support is lacking. The peasantsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; job is to take the water from the mighty queen and send little sprinkles to touch all the people surrounding the courtyard. In this way the queen ensures that she is noticed. The fountain is like a queen. She is strong, but needs support. Her support comes from all that accompany her. The most comes from the trees, then her knights, next are the bricks or the royal subjects, and last is the wind or the peasants. Individual, yes, but they are still there solely for their queen. Without their support the queen would be nothing. She would just be a fountain.

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3 PART BOISE Finley Butler Grade 7, Boise 1. Life is boring for those rooted in the ground. All I see is darkness and light. I have many arms but one eye. A bolt of lightning streaks across the sky going, “Crack,” A gust of wind brushes dust and dirt everywhere. A pair of dust devils dance and swirl. 2. “We all like weird, so keep Boise weird!” That’s what these sorrowful circles say. Painted on a wall for eternity. Part-time electricians that need large print to read. “Weee arre weeiirrd annd wee liiike it!” 3. Security cameras spy on the roses that help cover up the grief of the lost. The gargantuan building was built making law as people poured in like hot fudge. Lincoln gave his last speech, frozen in time.

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LIFE SUPPORT Sarah Wilson Grade 9, Nampa He was the man living in lucid dreams. She was the girl with a secret face. He was the man who looked his boss in the eyes and said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Screw you!â&#x20AC;? And she admired him. Through all the heart breaks, the hatred, the screaming at walls, he was someone to look up to. He was someone who in her eyes had it made, he was proof that there was light in a room of endless midnight. He was life.

GINGERS Clare Korte Grade 6, Boise Gingers have no souls. They have red hair and freckles. If Gingers have green eyes, they are only part-time Gingers. If they have any other color of eyes, they are full-time Gingers.

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A PERFECT DAY Hamish Thompson Grade 7, Boise Warm summer wind blows against my back. The feeling takes over me. I sit peacefully on a rock breathing in my surroundings. Gazing up seeing clear blue sky, but I am mistaken there is a cloud, only one. It drifts along the oceanlike sky, the wind by its side absorbing the mist that gathers below. I steer my gaze to the center of the circle. The fountain spurts up like a big blue whale. Smaller fountains surround the tallest. As water hits the soaked bricks it bursts into mist and flies off to reach the farthest edge of the grove before it evaporates. A woman sits perhaps waiting for someone, but I will never know for suddenly she is gone. I focus on the trees so peaceful, big and strong. Sturdy branches peel off to the sides and extend, creating shade for people who pass below. Then I hear a birdâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sweet cry, wings of steel, a mind of its own perching atop a fallen leaf. Rocks beneath a creek cut through. Frightened fish jump the steel and the bird swoops downward talons extended, eyes locked on. Water simmers in intricate patterns reflecting on the aviatorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s great big and grand wings, this is the particular statue that catches my eye as I think to myself this surely is a perfect day.

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WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU ARE A MOLECULE OF WATER Grant Breidenbach Grade 8, Boise Dance in the cloud with other droplets. Fall from the sky, making a mischief that one will have to mop. Pool, and then swirl down and around in a city drainage system. Rest peacefully in the water table. Violently be pulled up by a well, be cross-checked and interrogated to see if you are clean. Once up to par with being clean, be chilled by ice cubes. Explore the human body. Navigate a dicey sewer system. Rage down a river, thrashing rocks with powerful currents. Slow at an ocean. Go find a salt molecule Your fluid mind will know itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love at first sight. But then fight as you might, you will be ripped away from love and sucked up into a massive cloud. Then again dance with other droplets. Dodge lightning. Be driven by the winds until you freeze and turn to snow. Fall from the sky making many merry Then try some of these things again.

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REVOLUTIONARY STORY Tori Billings Grade 7, Idaho City June 5, 1723 Dear Ma, Everyone here is great and nice to me and Pa. Tomorrow we will go into the front lines to hold back the redcoats. Tell Annie that when I get back I’ll give her a great big hug. Love you and miss you. Can’t wait to see you and Annie again. With all the love in the world, Jacob Draper June 15, 1723 Dear Ma, I’m doing fine right now, and hope to be home soon. Yesterday we got called to the front lines to hold back the redcoats again. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, or I guess you already know. Pa died from a stab wound. There was nothing anyone could do. Enough about war; what’s going on at home? Please tell little Annie that I miss and love her so much. I wish that I could be there right now to help with the crops. Before Pa died, he told me to tell you that he loves you and hopes that you find someone new. Ma, I miss you so much, maybe I will come home soon. I love you and Annie so much. Oh no, the redcoats are coming! I have to go, Ma! With all the love in the world, Jacob Draper

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June 16, 1723 Dear Mrs. Draper, We are sad to inform you that your son, Jacob Draper, died in the act of duty. We are sorry for your loss. Your son was a great man and excellent soldier. Sincerely, George Washington

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THE NOVEMBER I WAS TEN Abby Cheng Grade 7, Nampa I am in a different world now; A world of laughter, happiness, and joy In this world there is no tomorrow, only today. This world has no worries, only fun. I can smell cotton candy and ice cream. I can hear laughter and screeches of joy. I can see hands thrust up in the air like flagpoles. I can taste a corndog in my mouth, along with the taste of a Sweet California breeze. In this world time does not exist. In this world sorrow has gone away. In this world the goal is to have fun and be happy. In this world I long to stay. But in the end, I must leave. In the end, worries and fear will return. In the end, time will move faster. In the end, I will walk away with good memories.

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I DUCK INTO MY SWIMSUIT Kaysa Pfannmuller Grade 7, Meridian I duck into my swimsuit and creep toward the rolls of water. As the liquid tickles my toes I laugh, But as the voice in my head screams from the cold, I sit in the sand and look at the sunset, Imagining myself walking into a giant yolk. My eyes are swimming at the sight of the forest of blue waves. I start to think about real forests and the frogs that jump from branch to branch, About the seeds from which people make chocolate, And only then does my stomach growl.

SOCK WHISPERS Ben Klausman Grade 8, Driggs So much depends on the man in the alley, his black snake slowly eating a severed hand cloaked in a grey sock. As the hot sun burns over the olive mountains a car horn groans in the distance. Slowly the man in the alley acknowledges that with every new day comes new challenges. The man in the alley kicks a can and whispers to his snake it is time to go.

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OUT WEST Maddie Curtwright Grade 9, Eagle June 17, 1904 Dear Caroline, We received the letter and the picture of your beautiful wedding gown. Congratulations on your engagement! Ma, Pa, Charlie, Andrea, and I are so proud of you. Everything out west is so new and different. I am so sad to inform you that we cannot come to your wedding. Andrea has regained her health since the last time we wrote to you. I guess the journey to Idaho was not to her liking. The homestead was just a plot of land when we arrived here, now it is full of life. Once again we congratulate you, Love, Josephine September 19, 1904 Dear Caroline, How are you enjoying life, being married and all? Today was my birthday; I am now 15. We enjoy life here in Idaho. I hope you are still enjoying life in Maryland. We hope to hear from you soon. Love, Josephine

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March 23, 1905 Dear Caroline, Happy 1905 to you, as well. Ma was overjoyed when we heard that your new little baby is a healthy little girl. She was so happy you named her Katherine, after Grandmama Katherine. We are so happy for you. You must come visit us here in Idaho when little Katherine is bigger. Love, Josephine January 30, 1906 Dear Caroline, Everyone here was overjoyed once more. I havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t written since we heard the news about little Katherine. Now with the news about baby Edmund, we cannot wait to see you again! You must bring your entire family to see us when Edmund is older. I am amazed to think that Andrea is almost three and Charlie seven. Love, Josephine

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THE SUMMER I WAS ALONE Savana Everett Grade 7, Garden City The shimmering trees flow above my head. Laughter echoes in my mind as all my friends leave me for their world. A crown of sun licked the top of my head as the heat surrounded me. Wishing there was a rainbow to slide down to fill my world with evaporating colors. The clouds, look like pools of cotton candy that angels swam in when no one was home. The world around me looks strange and frightening. I turn my head around, not wanting to look at the eye of the beast any longer, look at me, myself, scared and alone. Parents think they understand, but all they can do is think and watch the sun and the quicksand swallow me whole. My world is weird and strange, a labyrinth that you would get lost in just by taking one step. Peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s worlds are shredding like paper but not mine, for I put it back together with blue, white, and gold. 226

I REMEMBER Audrey Korte Grade 8, Boise I remember watching Finding Nemo for the first time. My older sister ran away, scared. I remember going on my first roller coaster. I remember playing kickball with my grandparents who could barely run at all. I remember jumping off of my great-grandmotherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s diving board into the ice cold, bug filled water. I remember kayaking with harbor seals. I remember watching whales put on a show. I remember dreaming of a car running on dish soap with bubbles coming out of the exhaust pipe. I remember the night my dog died. I remember getting a fish tank just so I could have some small frogs. I remember getting a new puppy. I remember when our new puppy killed our guinea pig. I remember switching schools after fourth grade. I remember my sister hitting my face with a baseball bat. I remember when I was the only kid in the house that wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t scared of our puppy. I remember crying for no reason at all. I remember crying when something happened to someone else. I remember swimming in the vast ocean and burning my feet on the hot sand.

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WHY I AM ME Daniel O’Morrow Grade 7, Eagle I was formed by a kid building a snowman out of off-white snow. By every place I want to go. I was formed by age and wonder And every night’s tired slumber. I am who I am because of every stick and stone. I am who I am because I am not alone. I was formed by ski and sled, and every single bird I’ve fed. I was formed by everything I enjoy, Every picture, tree, and toy. I am this and many things, Just a bird on gentle wings.

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ONE HUNDRED & EIGHT BRAIDS Delaney Vatcher Grade 7, Star The red and blue of America used in one hundred and eight braids. The turquoise and coral symbol of Tibetan women powerful and inventive with one hundred and eight braids. A myriad of beads made of stone adorn the clacking one hundred and eight braids. They are delighted with their alluring culture and its one hundred and eight braids.

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MAP OF A CHINESE GRAVEYARD Maggie Shumar Grade 7, Boise The gold squares standing out above everything else, their lines drawn with perfect symmetry, scars telling the history, colors so distinct only slightly brown with age the golds and greens and reds shimmer. Small symbols represent each name blackened so nobody can see clearly the biggest squares holding the most important king or queen with little ones scattered about.

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THINGS TO DO WHEN YOUâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;RE BORED (Summer Edition) Jay Rosato Grade 7, Boise Go to Yellowstone and see the golden morning sunrise, (if you have a car). Go find a dancing black snake, (non-venomous). Go listen to a tall splashing fountain, (if you can). Go swimming in the wavy waters, (if you live near a beach or wave pool). Go learn how to fish for the toughest fish, (no excuse not to). Go see a baseball game, (if you have a team close by). Go buy a sparkling new pair of shoes, (if you have the money). Or complain about how bored you are, (final option).

THINGS TO DO IN TIMES SQUARE NYC Charlotte Durkin Grade 8, Boise Watch the leaves of an aspen flutter. Eat bowtie pasta with Alfredo sauce. Watch men walk around in creepy, dark trench coats. Listen to the loud Booms! and cracks of fireworks. Slurp down a warm caramel mocha. Count the toes around you. Munch on a bag of Layâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s potato chips. Watch chameleons slither in and out of the big crowd. Chomp on a piece of watermelon bubble gum. Watch until the sky turns purple, and the fluttering stars come out at dusk.

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UNTOUCHABLE Hattie Smith Grade 7, Boise The thread bouquet held golden flowers, hand stitched greens and blues stolen from the earth and sewn into this robe a sun, younger than ours, wore. At the oranges and yellows forever woven into clothing the flowers sit prisoners behind gold and brown threads. They remain in this cloth prison untouchable.

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VANDALISM ON YOUR HEART McKayla Freeman Grade 8, Meridian My heart feels like A city wall Where nobody notices Vandalism. Paint all over Broken windows And more But nobody notices Vandalism. One day the glass is replaced The graffiti hidden beneath new paint But still there are traces Of vandalism. Then someone comes And paints a new picture Until all that remains Is love.

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MR. MOMEN AND HIS WORLD OF SILENCE Dacia Austin Grade 7, Eagle The sound was like beads being shaken. It was very odd for someone who lived on the planet of Zortak to hear a sound. It was always silent there, much too silent for Mr. Momen. Mr. Momen was a very rare person on Zortak because of his ability to make noise. Nobody ever talked or yawned or snored or sneezed or stomped or coughed or sang on his planet. The planet itself was soundless and colorless; it just had a charcoal colored smooth landscape void of character. But Mr. Momen was exceptional. This barrel-shaped man had auburn hair and pear green eyes, while everyone else on the planet looked like the landscape with ash colored hair and eyes. He heard the noise as he stepped out of his home. He was so startled and interested that he walked and walked toward the sound. The closer he came the louder it got until it suddenly stopped! Mr. Momen was amazed as he peered ahead toward what he thought was never possible; something too ridiculous to even think about: a beach full of bright, beautiful colors that heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d never seen before. There was golden, shimmering sand and bright, turquoise water. There was even a forest of green palm trees towering over him. In the center of all this he heard the noise again, and it was coming from the most miniscule creature. It was a teeny-tiny grasshopper! Mr. Momen bent over and looked closely. He felt as if they were connected, as if they were two of a kind. Together they were the only creatures capable of making sound in their drab world of silence.

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After what seemed like a very long time he decided to pick up the grasshopper. Cautiously, Mr. Momen carried the small green insect to his house. He sat it down on a firm, gray chair and grabbed a rough, colorless cloth from his smoke-colored cabinets for the grasshopper to lay on. “I’ll name you Noisey,” he struggled to speak to himself. These were the first words he’d tried to say aloud in a very long time. The grasshopper rattled in approval and Mr. Momen knew he had finally made a friend.

ALL YOU Brianna Loveless Grade 7, Meridian The bus stops, there are loud noises everywhere exploding in my ears. All I can hear is your melody reaching out to me calling me near. We walk into a coffee shop, but I don’t really need any coffee because you are my stimulant. Whenever I’m with you I’m awake, alert, and all I can think about is you. We walk down the street full of art and graffiti, but the only art I see is you and I’m blind to everything else. We sit at the table, you can smell the cooking food, but all I smell is my love for you. There are tall buildings with ribbons around them and sculptures on the ground you can fall too, but all I’m falling to is you. All you.

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THE CRUX Sara Matlock Grade 8, Boise Music can influence your soul, feelings are real only in the moment, manufacture a percentage of loveâ&#x20AC;Ś give up? Coffee shops and the first day of school are both my favorite smells, add in fall and its sensory heaven. Summer is a hot sedative. Notes that echo down the street. Words made of a thousand interloping colors. Flip flops on pavement and ice in an ice rink. Violators of a secret meeting in the garden, a happy girl and a happy child, sit and laugh, stand and play, appreciate the music. Owls strung on a clothesline. Perfume at the expense of a blue sky streaked with white clouds. Shadows of dark green trees on a high hill somewhere far away. Listen to an empty case full of dollar bills and a thank you sign. What can make you drunker than your own soul in the melody of a song? Close your eyes and listen.

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THE QUEEN Colette Raptosh Grade 7, Boise The queen lifts the crown off her head, and as she does she says, “bow down to me, your queen.” Everyone in town does what she says, because they’re unsure what she might do. The queen has power, but hides her fear. She always wondered, she was almost sure, and there was a poem once read to her: People love power but everyone has fear, People hide their fear, People fight their fear, But everyone else can see it.

LOVE IS A MOUNTAIN Christopher Reid Grade 8, Boise Love is like a mountain, towering over endless worlds. Many climb it, but few ever make it down. The air at the top is thin, it makes your breath short and your heart pump faster. It is the biggest thing in the world and nothing can destroy it. The path to the summit is rocky and dangerous, but in the end it is worth it all.

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MY MOTHER Stephanie Hamilton-Rubio Grade 8, Boise What did the biting wind steal from me? It stole my last memory of my mother. The golden charm bracelet That held our stories together, Those joyful times, My mom, my role-model, my friend. I will forever miss the warmth of her hand intertwined in Mine And the security of her whisper telling me she loved me. Now all I have is endless emptiness in my heart and life All because of what the villainous wind stole from me. The memories are gone.

A BOY AND HIS RED SHOES Alex Ludwigson Grade 7, Boise His shoes were his most prized possession. He wore them everywhere. He wore them to the store, the park, and even when he went swimming. They were three sizes too small for him, but he kept wearing them. He got signed up for baseball and his mom bought him some new cleats. He took one look at the shoes and threw them out the window. His mom got so upset that when he fell asleep, she threw his red shoes away, and the garbage men took them to the dump. He woke and heard the news. He ran outside and caught the garbage man.

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LOVE IS Drew Lane Grade 9, Eagle Love is a mom covering a child’s ears when it is loud Love is a dad holding a child in a crowded place Love is a grandparent holding a grandkid’s hand on an uneven sidewalk Love is an aunt looking both ways with a niece before crossing traffic Love is a uncle exploring a weird-shaped building with an nephew Love is a sister keeping the world full of art with a younger sister Love is a brother teaching a young brother how to ride a bike Love is a family playing together then sitting on a bench and watching the sun set Love is when one cares for another That is love

HOPE Jackson Rainery Grade , Boise All they can do is hope. Hope the child will get better. Hope that they will get a better job. They’re in a vicious circle. The family must buy meds for the child, and he suffers more. In the small house, the child asks “Am I going to die?” “We don’t know,” they say as they hold his cold, clammy hands. They’re doing the best they can. They can hope. Hope for a kindly doctor. Until then, all they can do is hope.

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STORM CHASERS Scott Lane Grade 7, Eagle Jetting across the plains the horses and their riders raced against a storm. By the orange sky they knew a tornado was coming. They had to make it home before the sky turned crimson red, but the sky was darkening rapidly. Soon the sky was a light red. The horses ran faster than they ever had before to protect their riders. As lightning struck the nearby ground, rocketing the house, the riders dismounted and the horses, and tore for the barn. Just as the sky turned a crimson red, then the storm attacked. Wind ripped at the barn trying to make the walls surrender to its strength, but the barn stood against the torrents forcing the wind to fight hard for every sway and bend. The wind retreated after three days of what seemed to be an endless battle. On that fourth day the horses and riders emerged form the barn and house and ran, gathering up the wreckage from the storm. The horses helped pull heavy poles from the ruined shed and tack room. When the farm was restored to its original form, the horses and their riders embarked on another long but daring adventure.

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RECOLLECTION Alice Maguire Grade 8, Boise Swirling colors, confusing emotions seemingly useless pieces of information clicking together. The inside is the outside to the ones who are looking in. Knowing all the facts, but unable to see the answers. Searching in the light but the clues are shrouded in shadow. Bizarre creatures repulse and scare the looker. Yet they hold the keys to the riddles of the past. Inside they are different than their appearances convey; theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re like gems hidden under layers and layers of misinterpretation, unkindness, and defeat. We have given them nothing but contempt and they have given us protection and guidance in return. Gentle souls are they, wounded and alone, but still insistent on showing they care. Kind actions are taken as acts of hostility because of their fearsome shells. We are watched over, taken care of, but our guardians are never recognized. We continue to scour the world for the answers to the unsolvable quiz, when the solutions are really right in front of us, as we slashed our swords and shot our guns. Harmony used to ring throughout the lands, but discord and fear cry from the throats of the hopeless left in our wake of rage. Long before our hearts were taken by an unshakeable chill and greed, we wrought the fields with flowers and joy. The time for peace has departed itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a shadow, a reflection, the past only a recollection.

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THE LEATHER COAT J. Owen Newton Grade 9, Nampa Josh’s leather coat was special to him. He made sure it was never scratched or torn. He wouldn’t let anything foreign touch it. When he went to the movies, he made sure nothing was stuck to the chair. He never allowed for it to be hung because he thought it ruined it. One day, Josh went to the park for a picnic. He grabbed a coat from the closet, but didn’t realize it was his leather coat. When he got to the picnic, he sat next to a tree. A warm, sticky syrup was running down the tree. A friend told him he was wearing his leather coat and he rushed to take it off, but syrup had already gotten on the coat. He rushed home to get the syrup off. He grabbed some leather stain remover, applied it to the coat, and ran hot water over it. He checked, and the syrup was gone.

SO MUCH DEPENDS Katherine O’Neill Grade 8, Boise So much depends on your human. As a shadow, your life follows theirs, mirrors it exactly. But when the sun goes down, we return to a world of our own. It does not pale in comparison to the real world. In fact it is more vibrant. This is because from our world we can objectively observe the humans so we know the truth of things. But we never make decisions for ourselves, we are forced to passively allow our lives to mirror those of our humans and here is the fault of our world. We want to be human because for all the pain of human existence, there is even more prevalent joy.

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DOMINOES Henry Price Grade 9, Boise So much depends upon this one story. If I don’t write it, Ashley will get irritated, with twitching eyes and small, tight smiles. Eventually, her irritation will blossom into a rage so large, she will rip a branch off a tree. Sadly, this will cause an entire family of owls to lose their home. They will wander, lost and confused, until they come across a safe house, an oasis, the eye of a hurricane, the ‘W’ in the WalMart sign. This ‘W’ will offer so much shelter and comfort; the owls will set up a brand new nest in it. This nest will cause a lot of attention from drivers, which should be paying attention to other drivers. The cars of these inattentive drivers will inevitably crash into each other with the sounds of crunching glass and twisted metal. The government will intervene, saying that this Wal-Mart is even more dangerous that Chernobyl, and have it shut down. Without this WalMart, the Boise economy, and ultimately the Idaho economy will suffer. Without enough money, our beautiful society will be forced to end all potato growth. Since large, potato dependent companies such as McDonald’s and Lays rely heavily on Idaho potatoes, they will slow down, and eventually go out of business. Without the money coming in from these companies, the U.S. Government will be forced to raise taxes. This will make everyday American citizens so furious, that they will storm Washington D.C. with pitchforks, torches, etc. and overthrow the entire American democracy and we will have a dystopian militaristic dictatorship, forever. In that case, I should probably get started.

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LIFT: A NOCTURNAL BALLET Jesse Remeis Grade 9, Boise Dreams of high gravity shooting stars Rusted blue shoes Pound the rhythm Of an ocean’s dying moon. Whistle while vibrant bricks Style themselves heroes. Obnoxious thyme clangs brightly As it leaps through an orange moon. Rush to find a way around The painted yellow boundary lines. Narrow grates and chains protest The clash of cymbals in a howling moon. Dance on the fringe In the light of a fluttering moon.

BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE Sylver Schachtell Grade 8, Boise To brake outside a cage of having no voice To unlock the door simply by asking To want out so badly, but tell no one Scared of getting pushed deeper and deeper in Not knowing what’s better To say something and wish you didn’t To say nothing and wish you did Silence overcomes the box of metal bars

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MEMORIES Kendall Thiede Grade 8, Boise The gaping mouth of a cave awaits in the range of jagged mountain peaks; a place where time has no meaning. The past was ‘then’ and the present is only ‘now.’ Thief and bandit alike gravitate to this cave that hides from all eyes like an insect under a rock, plotting revenge on all those who might dare to step and smash them into nonexistence. The wheel of time is spinning, making the dark ball of yarn bigger and bigger until evil has won. It didn’t reach its full aptitude, for the yarn was cut to an abrupt end until it was nothing more than an insignificant thought cast back into the hole, in the cliffs from which it came. Thoughts of this place have long been left to perish in the farthest corners of all minds and has become a forgotten tale. The shadowy cave waits patiently for the first chance to return, finding only darkness, the musky smell of damp moss, and an air of abandonment. The passage of time is unnoticeable within this stony fortress, for in a place with no time, even the present is considered a memory.

PATHS Rachel Roberts Grade 8, Filer Two little girls play beside a tree, haunted by their pasts. They are both silent, yet know the other’s desire. In a few decades one will be president and one will make her home in the grave. The latter’s death will be welcomed.

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THE SUMMER I WAS 10 John Daniel Grade 8, Kuna The pearly white clouds hovered just above us, the occasional droplet of water finding its way on our faces. While we searched for something intangible, the wind pushed us where we needed to go. That ephemeral moment when the glimmering heavenly shell breaks the surface, shattering the uniform smooth of glassy black water. We chase after it, this thing like a symbol of our lives, just out of sight, relishing its own beauty, while we chase it, fruitlessly. We break the surface for the last time, gratefully breathing in tropical air. The slight scent of salt greets us. Some of us never even saw the turtle up close.

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THE FALL I WAS 12 Katherine Genther Grade 7, Boise The smooth plums start to grow outside. The cool air of the morning wakes me up. Sitting in grass, laughing. Sixth grade—that was so much fun. No more loopedy-loo slides. We felt like the ‘big kids’—the head of school. Wearing my bright pink sweatshirt, fighting mother nature’s cold, deep breaths. The aroma of a small cheese pizza cooking meant lunchtime. Thin metal spoons and forks bent like straws. White cartons of milk on every tray. Riding bikes, going to movies, waiting patiently for seventh grade. Waiting for new memories to be made.

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THE LINE Kaelie Kuehl Grade 8, Boise The line You know you want to cross it The line wants you to step over. The line sways back and forth Swiveling its hips seductively. The line distorts into an army of adolescents Pupils dilated Minds controlled by the line. The line shows you a new way of living Exposing any doubts lingering in your head. The line flickers and shifts Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a bedroom, your bedroom. You lay on the bloodstained carpet Swinging a belt around Counting the dots on the ceiling Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re unaware of the line. Sneaking around in the depths of the walls Propelled by the ceiling fan The line extends its long black fingers curling them around your neck.

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The line claws at your throat No one notices. The cigarette that you were smoking Drops from your bloody hand. No one will notice your absence Or the burn mark in the carpet. You are sucked back on to the line One foot in the air. The line grins wickedly Licking its upper lips in anticipation. So what will it be? You bring your foot back to the earth NO. The line only nods before disintegrating A new monster erupts. A whole new line to cross The temperature even greater this time.

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THE WINTER I WAS 15 Emma James Grade 7, Eagle The snow drifted down, Landing on my red nose. We heard children playing In the cold snow. Buying Christmas presents Showing them to each other Or hiding them Then finding the doll little Susie wants. Gazing at snow men Starting snowball fights Making snow angels Then running from the cold. Soft blankets of snow Covering everything in sight The sweet smell of hot chocolate As it burns down our throats. Wrapping presents Tying bows, finishing Just in time: Oh, how Christmas is a delight!

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THIS IS TRUE Madeleine Robson Grade 8, Kuna We fight But we fight with smiles upon our faces. You say “This is true.” We laugh About the simplest of things. You say “This is true.” We observe And remark on people’s odd behaviors. You say “This is true.” We learn You teach me science, I teach you humor. You say “This is true.” We love We are sisters as well as closest friends. You say “This is true.”

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I WAS FORMED BY Jaydn Summervill Grade 7, Boise I was formed by my surroundings, from the city, to the landscape, from the people, to the little details that won’t matter the next day. I was formed by the architecture outside of my window, across the street. Never would I dream that I could be that creative. I was formed from all the bumps and potholes along the road. The sudden motion changed my interpretation of the way things work. I was formed by strangers’ way of life. Their crimes, their punishments made me realize nothing is really ‘perfect’. I was formed by love and affection. By family, friends, and all of the excitement that comes with life.

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SUMMER Andrew Zhang Grade 8, Boise In the days of August, I head up the hill, wishing for a million bucks, and head down the hill staring at the sky saying, “A million dollars, oh, the things I could do with a million dollars.” I walk through the door and sit down in a chair while taking a couple sips of water. With eyes open, I watch television while taking notes on a sheet of paper, saying to myself, “A million dollars, oh things I could do with a million dollars,” Because it’s summer.

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THE SKY Henry Zhang Grade 8, Boise The sky was blue. The dude wished for paper. The chair swayed. He asked, “Can I have paper?” He opened his eyes. It was August. Suddenly, the door flew open. Paper flew in. All because of one wish.

THE LAST HOURS Ethan Peterson Grade 7, Boise I sat by her bed in the last hours. As the computer slowly and rhythmically beeped I thought of my every mistake that could’ve made her life miserable. She was asleep, barely breathing, as I started to see the life drain out of her. I stroked her baldhead thinking I will never get to talk to you again. Suddenly two large doctors came through the door. “It’s time for you to leave,” they said. I turned my head, ignoring them. “Move, or we’ll make you move,” the biggest one said. I continued to ignore them. They grabbed me by the arms and started to pull me out. I kicked and screamed but nothing could tear me from their iron grip. They sat me down outside. “Go home. We’ll call you tonight,” they said. That night, around 10:30 pm, I got the call telling me my mother had passed away. I hung up, stunned to my bones. 254

PRECIPICE Clea McElwain Grade 7, Boise Her eyes flit atop his face and then quickly dart away. Only subtle breaths broke the canyon of silence between them. Their postures suggested an important business meeting but both of them knew they were telepathically daring the other to speak first. She saw the once full photo frames hanging empty on the wall like several-day-old laundry that hangs precariously off the line. She saw scraps of the wonderful memories and smiles documented in the photos ripped to shreds and scattered around the family portrait, which had her face cut out. Already, she could tell, those memories were quickly fading from her father, and being replaced with “You ran away.” “Only because I had to,” she answered.

WARRIOR Quincee Lark Grade 8, Boise “But mother,” he said. Looking down at his hands, there were battles being waged in his head. He thought of the days he spent with her and of the fewer days she spent with him. He thought of the secret that was a hot knife in his stomach, “It’s still your choice,” she said, not really meaning it. Now, different battles, were being waged in her head, but with the optimism of a victor. He looked up from his hands and into her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

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NOTHING IN NOWHERE Breanne Grondahl Grade 9, Boise Sister, we are still here. The nothing, the darkness, followed us into the deserted street, into the rotting alleyway, and wrapped Megan into lies and illusions and then she was gone. The illusions chased me, snapped at my ankles, the lies rushing through my head like a flurry of bats. Even the pure air turned against me, changing momentarily solid (for there is no way I could have tripped on oxygen). Lying facedown on the pavement icy against my bare skin and also the last solid thing left. The nothing swept me into hallucinations and carried me into insanity. And now Nothing has taken me Nowhere. Sirens scream and people shout in clipped, commanding words. The bricks in the alley, the bars on our prison, leer over us, saying nothing to the invaders. We are not discovered, and Sister, we are still here, (The letter is water-stained, and ripped in half).

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TITANIUM Josie Keim Grade 8, Boise A voice raised yelling, yelling blaming me for the mess she made. A curse spoken aloud. The job not done to perfection. Rudeness the only thing I hear. A gene given from the father. Insult me no more I am over it, over you Over the part you play. Father nor daughter can break me. Still, why do you try to break What little I have?

FIRE TO FIRE Carly Werdel Grade 7, Boise Fire to fire Fire to fire A constant fight of equal strengths A battle for eternity No winners, losers, just the screaming bloody dead Licks of angry truth fly, erupting sparks That should make the world stop dead In its tracks But instead Makes the fire burn brighter Fighting harder Fighting fire Fire to fire

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NO SHAKESPEARE ALLOWED Isabelle Robison Grade 8, Boise Romeo loved Juliet. Hermia loved Demetrius. Orpheus loved Eurydice. I love you. I might not love you enough to kill myself at the sight of your corpse. I may not continue loving you even after you reject my adoration to my face. I may not love you enough to steal you for myself from the God of Death. But know that I love you. I wouldn’t kill myself because you might get upset. If it would make you happy, I would stop loving you. And if you were happier there than here with me, I would leave you there. But I am in love with you. Knowing the truth may not make you love me, but knowing the truth would freely express my allegiance. Please don’t die. Please don’t send me away in anger. Please don’t forget me in Heaven. Just know that you are loved and adored and beautiful. Take care of yourself. I won’t be Juliet. I refuse to play Hermia. There is no Death in our story.

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INVISIBLE WINTER Katarina Schwartzman Grade 9, Boise Winter is invisible. Snowflakes fall, but never become snow banks. Toboggans wait for riders. Skis become benches, missing bindings. The ice skates are dull and have no need for ice. Spring is translucent. The leaves are light green. The flowers only have stems. The grass sways but never grows. The only thing left of the rabbits are tails and ears. Summer is visible. The sun is like a mood ring, changing for each sunset. The children swim. the seagulls soar high towards the sun. Fall is dead. The leaves are withered on the ground. Grandpa killed the turkey. The pumpkin is scarred. The children are zombies, preparing for the invisible winter.

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MEMORIES Lucy Bruyninckx Grade 8, Boise He doesn’t have to try to hide his anger and resentment. It comes far too naturally. He doesn’t have to practice seeming convincing; he already is. But deep inside, behind the friendly smile, he is miserable. He throws on his favorite blue baseball cap and grabs a bottle of Arizona Tea from the fridge. Where can he go? The park? The grove? Yes, the grove. Where he can stare at the fountain and wallow in his sorrows in peace. He strolls down the street and watches the people around him. Each smiling face creates a bigger hole in his heart. He smiles back anyway and moves on down the road. He selects a green picnic table close to the splashing water of the fountain, but far enough away to stay warm and dry, and pops the top off the bottle of tea. He glances around the grove. He is alone. Alone. Such a strong word, but oh-sofitting for his situation. Memories flash behind his eyes, his mother leaving, his father swinging a fist at him. Then, later in life, running away, not graduating high school. His girlfriend taking their baby boy and leaving, pulling down her sleeves to hide the bruises that decorate her arms. The look she gave him; that look of utter hatred. He had become just, like, his father. Maybe worse. The baby’s turned three by now. He wonders if Christina has changed his name; she never liked the name he’d selected for their only child. He takes off his cap and wipes the sweat from his brow, looks up at the beating sun. Time to go. He crushes the empty plastic bottle in his fist and leaves, taking his memories with him.

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Memories flash behind his eyes. Mother leaving, father swinging a fist at him. Running away, not graduating high school. Girlfriend taking their baby boy and leaving, Pulling down her sleeves to hide the bruises that decorate her arms. The look on her face. That look of utter hatred. He had become just like his father. Maybe worse.

STRANGE TRANSFORMATION Bailey Humphrey Grade 7, Boise I was in a room one day when something strange happened. I was sitting on my bed when I felt as if I was shrinking. My room started to grow. Then I stopped. The world was huge. I looked at my hand and found that it was furry and had no fingers. A paw! I leaped down off my bed and went over to my mirror. I was small, black and white, blue-eyed, and had a tail twitching back and forth. I was a cat! I thought about this. It might not be so bad. I could jump to high places, sleep all day, and see in the dark! Soon night came and the room darkened. I could see! It was kind of strange though, like I was wearing night vision. I walked around a bit exploring things from a new perspective. Then I got tired and climbed into a small box where I curled up and fell asleep. 261

BLOODY TEARS Emilie Eshbaugh Grade 7, Boise His eyes are filled with death Lingering about him Glistening like blood upon his skin. Heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been wrung from the inside out Twisted in every way possible. Blood colors his skin It flows up rather than down It fills his mouth Washing away the echoes of happiness and love. He screams But as he does, he chokes, gagging on the blood that still flows to his lips. He drops to the floor Writhing in unexplainable agony His eyes begin to burn. Burning water flows down his cheeks Leaving bright white marks in its path. By now, the blood has stopped flowing Burning water is dominant. He tries to close his mouth But does not prevent the water from slipping through his sealed lips Traveling down his throat And drowning his heart. And you never thought you could be killed by tears.

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THE TRAIN Emma Long Grade 7, Boise The woman pushes the baby carriage smiling vaguely. She seems like a kind, happy woman, but if you look in her eyes you see a deep sadness, a reflection of a train. A train whirrs past into the inky blackness of the night. Inside all seems to be well. The faint dimness of the light illuminates sleeping people, happy people, and people chatting quietly tucked away in corners. She walks slowly stopping at a store looking into the window. Although her eyes are not there looking in the window, they are in a place of sadness. She feels like collapsing but she cannot. This is a place of happiness where children play. Not a place to remember sadness. She puts on a fake smile and continues on. Some people will smile back and some people will look back at her, as if seeing her grief. She keeps walking. She tries to manage a real smile, but canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. The smell of a bakery fills her nose. Before the train, she used to hear laughing. She canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hear people laughing anymore. Without realizing it, her smile fades, replaced by a frown. She turns and sits down staring towards a park. She tries to remember, the sirens of the ambulance, their last wishes, them smiling peacefully after. She turns her sob into a cough and then laughs as a little girl runs up to her baby. Not a real laugh, but a reassuring laugh showing that sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s still in there buried by all her sadness.

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THE ACCIDENT Alexandra Swerdloff Grade 7, Boise The girl walked down the sidewalk, only half listening to her sister. Her brow was furrowed and she studied the ground as she walked, determined not to meet her sister’s gaze. If she did, her sister would surely see the sadness etched there. It could hardly come as a shock after the accident, but she would rather pretend everything was fine than face the truth. She wished everybody could just face it and get on with their lives. She hated pretending it hadn’t happened, but it was either that or talk about it, which was bound to be worse. She tried to compose her face in an interested expression as her sister spoke, when really her thoughts couldn’t have been further away. “…And then I was like, really?” Her sister laughed and glanced over at her. She gave an unconvincing laugh and tried to look interested. “So then what happened?” “Well, he said…. hey, are you all right?” Her sister said suddenly, looking up at her sister’s face with concern. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” said the girl, trying to sound casual. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with us to the movies tonight?” The girl stepped away. “No. I’m fine, I’ll just go home” How could she go to movies and laugh with friends when she was feeling so sad inside? How could she bear pretending nothing had happened, when her whole world had fallen apart? After the accident nothing would ever be the same.

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LEARNING TO FLY Ashley Travis Grade 8, Boise I stop midair and perch in a tree. I stare down at a boy. “Come down.” He beckons. “Please, please, please?” The next day I’m flying high When I notice the same boy under my tree The one I’ve designated just for me. The boy stands there with his arms out wide And calls me again to be by his side. “Dear girl, you there, up in the sky, Will you please come down and teach me to fly?” I scoff and turn my head away But he stands there still and holds on to my eyes. “Please,” he whispers, excitement in his voice. “Tomorrow I’ll come down from this tree. When I teach you to fly will you just let me be?” He grins and nods with a cheery face Then rushes home to wait for the next day. I rush down from my tree. I see the boy smiling at me. I grab his hand and swoop to the sea of blue. His smile is still visible there. So children, when you read Our story here Just know our wedding Was held in the air. 265

POLLUTION Alexandra Welch-Darrington Grade 8, Boise Smog, dark clouds billow in the sky Drowning any good clouds and hiding the sun. I see it now, as it threatens to engulf me. I watch with sadness to see what it does to my city. I watch, helpless, as it engulfs buildings, And the cars and people that I knew. It drowns out my words of warning, As it swallows light. My sadness becomes more when I see it move on, With my family, friends, while the darkness just yawns.

SCARED Adrianna Peter Grade 7, Boise Butterflies fly frantically around in my stomach to find some way out. If anyone around me is scared, theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not showing it. I grip my violin tighter like it is my only hope. I try not to cower away from that moment when we go through that door. I can see all those faces watching, waiting for the curtain to go up, all of us ready to play. My teacher waves us to our seats, the curtain rises, and she introduces us. I try to find a familiar face in the audience ready to be swept into the river of music. As we get to the end of the song I remember them but the butterflies are gone. After the concert I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know why I was nervous but I was all the same.

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COASTLINE Kimball Chandler Grade 8, Boise I was on the coast once, my father by my side. I said “Daddy, Daddy, pick me up!” He lifted me onto his shoulders. I looked at the horizon and the clouds, pink from the sun’s reflection. I heard the roar of the waves washing up the beach. I saw a sand castle but the waves, like thieves, stole it and tore it apart.

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BETTER TO KEEP UP Ana Earl Grade 8, Boise She was on clouds of answers once. The grass and trees rushing by. The road without any bumps or hurdles “smooth and fast,” she said to her father smooth and fast. She looked at the mountains and oceans rushing by the window. From summer to winter and around again six times. Suddenly the road ended: where did the smooth and the fast go? “I don’t know,” her father said. I don’t know. I want the normal back Now! She wants the smooth and fast— clouds and their answers. The road without bumps back— the normal together again. But Father said: “The world is changing. Better to keep up.”

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STRICTLY NORTHWEST Tanya Landau Grade 8, Boise We don’t get much sunshine, but oh, do we love the rain. We have ranges of mountains galore rising over horizons like the waves of our coasts. We love the outdoors in sun and in rain we go in the winter for snow is our game. We camp and we hike and we watch the birds sing. We’re covered in forests like the carpets of the world. With lots of small towns we stick with community And in Idaho eat potatoes at every opportunity. We are the rivers and lakes you city people never see. We are like the salmon that jump in our rivers. We are the corner shop of the country the one you wished you visited. We are the Great Northwest, unique. We are not the car horns and skyscrapers elsewhere you’ll see. 269

AT THE AGE OF SEVEN Mahalie Hill Grade 8, Boise Just learning the art of loving the sound of words, silently repeating them in my head as I read between the lines. Driving into worlds behind the pictures of magazines and comic books. My ice blue eyes are wide with wonder and fascination of the surrounding atmosphere. The pounding of my heart as my feet hit the concrete and blood surges through my veins. An utter sense of joy fills my being as I lick the remaining chocolate from my lips. An opening in the world around me isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t filled with silence, but laughter like a flame in the furnace.

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Snow touches my auburn hair for the first time of the season and the flakes dance off my smile. At the age of seven thoughts do not elude me, but come like I had called them from miles and miles away.

THEFT Micaylah Ganieany Grade 8, Eagle Sisters. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what we were. You, with your tomboy fashions, contrasting with my dark, rebel wear. I looked up to you, and all in all depended on you, but that didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stop him. Death took you hostage, stealing you away. Depression trapped me in a shell, refusing to let go. I struggled, I swear I did, but resistance was futile, and I was left floundering, a spider caught in her own web.

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AS IF IT WAS OBVIOUS Alyssa Lu Grade 7, Boise 1 Twenty minutes with an empty canvas, I didn’t get this. So I went to the art teacher. “What are we supposed to draw?” I asked her she looked at me. Our eyes met she held my gaze like it was the edge of a cliff. She broke the silence by saying “art of course.” 2 I had a golf ball in front of me. I looked over at my golf bag full of different types of clubs and said, “what, how, or which one?” My golf coach looked confused, he said “well you hit the ball of course.” 3 I was once at school. My teacher held a pencil and paper and I asked: “What are we supposed to do?” My teacher looked delighted, as if she had been waiting for that question, she told be to be creative and then it hit me.

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PULSE Twila Neiwert Grade 9, Boise A pounding roar, repetitive and mesmerizing, the giant heartbeat of the Earth. Salt spray fills the air leaving a memory behind on my dry lips. The robinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s egg sky is dampened by a cool mist every afternoon. Water rushes through my toes, over my bare feet, and up to my knees. Then it recedes with the ebb of a heartbeat, the blood of the world.

ACROSS THE BRIDGE Bing Toh Grade 8, Boise One, two, three hours we wait, longing for the slight twitch in the string that connects us to the water cascading before us. My uncle and I sit, wait, and watch the water looking intensely past the line that helps us stay connected. We arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t very far away from home. Behind our house, across the bridge and onto the dock we walked six hours ago. Pork, shrimp, and bread. We tried, but one pole stayed still while two thrived with life. The grey shrimp and white bread were cooked in the radiating heat. Seven, eight, and nine we hooked as we watched them swim away. Number ten struck as Uncle watched the sun close down. 273

CLUSTERS India Roper-Moyes Grade 9, Boise Moving mouths, constant chatter fingering my denim pockets. I fiddle with something, a pencil, a stub that had become used to the dusty smell of my hand candy wrapper from last night, hair neglected after a dance no place for a little school girl like me. Just say hi. Two letters one syllable clearing my throat unable to do so for my thoughts. Why am I so claustrophobic all of a sudden? â&#x20AC;&#x153;Hi,â&#x20AC;? you turn your head, then body, and smile, grin, shine, mercilessly before me. No response. I am so bad with words. No, I am bad with talking words with noisy words, words that taste foreign on my tongue like the stutter in the midst of romance. I like the quiet words, the hidden words, words with an aroma, 274

cookies in the oven, popcorn in a theater, coffee in our coffee shop. “Hello,” a voice like the piano he so passionately plays. I smile again and turn back around. The wind blows a piece of hair across my face. “Baby steps,” I whisper and push everything back in place. “Did you say something?” “Oh, no, not really.”

IN SIMPLE THINGS Thomas Metzger Grade 9, Boise As I put my head down on my water bottle I slowly closed my eyes letting the soothing sounds of birds and rivers relax me. I felt miles away from everything. And my mind opened the door to any thought. Suddenly, I started thinking “What if people think I’m weird? What if someone steals my stuff?” At that moment, like it read my mind, a bird made what sounded like a laugh. “A-ha!” Then, a cloud broke apart and I disappeared. 275

THE DANCE Madeline Krause Grade 8, Boise The world wakes up too tired to notice the little things, or anything at all. A girl wakes up, gullible, weak and begins to brush her hair. “I am normal,” she declares to her mirror, “I am perfectly fine,” and brushes her hair trying not to stare at the self she’s left behind. She pulls on her boots and gets on the bus with forty-one faces just like hers. The children part and cluster and no one ever musters the courage it takes to be different. So she goes to school and she wakes up again. Steps to the same old dance, the same fluid movements, the same empty motions, she practices all day long. So many faces With the same empty expression the blind crowd never notices.

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AN EYE FOR AN EYE Allison Block Grade 7, Boise The morning began just as the sun tentatively peeped through the window, shedding light on an unoccupied desk, strewn with last night’s unfinished work and a cage for a bird that wasn’t. The screech of an alarm, a cry of pain, an attempt to wake up, all in vain. The murky depths of coffee, a day’s criticism in newspapers, an eye for an eye. The red light, the missed bus, the clock ticking onward.

UNREAD WORDS Rachel Block Grade 7, Eagle In an abandoned library rests a forgotten book on a dusty shelf. It may be argued that it wasn’t really a book at all, because if a book has words, but nobody reads them, is it really a book? Perhaps the words read themselves, echoing back silently, yet underneath the silence, a story is told. Either way, a book is more than a collection of pages and ink, bound together. A book represents an idea, a hope, representing the civilization of the human race. 277

NEVER THE SAME Carly Liebich Grade 9, Boise I remember that day clear as a crystal in my mind. My mom called me over said she had news, “Bri’s got pneumonia she’s in the hospital but there is little to do.” Salty tears ran down my face like rain coming down from the clouds. I ran inside as quick as a bee to call my best friend I couldn’t do this alone. Did she know? She didn’t.

THE LIGHT Arpad Sefcsik Grade 7, Twin Falls As I approached the door, it opened and I was dragged in by the light. My eyes burning, I never closed them. As I was going in I was struck, snap! I was in my room on the floor. I must have fell. I heard a creak. I looked under my bed, a light shined and a silky smooth hand came out. I was gone, without a sound.

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THE CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT Ethan Hodges Grade 8, Twin Falls The world was quiet. Not even the crickets chirped. The store was dark and silent, but that would soon change. The clock struck midnight, and at the first bong the whole store came to life. Toys danced and sang, video games played themselves, bikes raced, toy cars zoomed along the aisles, music blasted from the radios, the piano, and all the musical instruments. Rough pants, silk shirts, and leather shoes flew toward each other and danced as one. Mannequins convened and ate the chocolate bars and gummy worms they looked at all day. The clock was still bonging. At the final bong, the 12th—the last—everything in the entire store flashed back to their normal locations, and it was quiet once more. Until the next night.

NEVER Taura Graybill Grade 7, Twin Falls If you should die this hour, or tomorrow, or whatever, know that I just needed to ask you, “When will you ever tire of me?” “Never.” “Will we ever grow apart as the years roll and tumble by? Will I ever drive by your house without stopping to say hi?” “Never.” Not in a million years will I never share my problems because I know that you simply will dissolve them. So in this poem (I do hope you caught its meaning), we will be on each other’s shoulders forever, leaning. Another meaning to this poem is that I love you, and I know that you will always love me, too. 279

SAFETY OF ROSES Levi Welch Grade 7, Burley Scene: [A Girl sits among beautiful flowers, roses, daisies, lilacs, etc. She is crying.] Girl: What if they do divorce? What if they find other people? What will happen? Who will love me? Who will take care of me? Who will…. [She stops her thoughts, overcome by sadness. The girl notices a rose intertwined between two weeds. The bottom looks weak, yet the top looks strong.] Girl: Hi there. Are they choking you, too? Here (she separates the weeds). You okay? You will be. You know, I’ve got some weeds of my own. What do I do? I mean, I’ve tried everything, but they keep choking everything. What do I do? [After she says this, a gust of wind blows and the rose moves, hitting the weeds away from it. The rose looks stronger.] Girl: Wait, should I tune them out? It would break them. Well, they’re already broken. You know what? I’m not going to break them. I’m gonna heal them. Maybe they will feel better. [Girl runs off the stage. After she does, another gust of wind happens and the rose falls.]

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NEVER LEFT Miranda Benson Grade 9, Jerome Filled with sadness. Having no end. Nothing but a graveyard. Pet Cemetery. Howls sound at night, scratching and clawing. Animal spirits are calling. Calling for their owners. With no sign of the living, the spirits go back to rest. A new day has come. A new animalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s life is gone. Tears stream down like rain. A childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s best friend was misplaced. Its decaying remains lay in a hole. Yet another calling soul.

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BOARâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S BELT Jessica Christiansen Grade 9, Kimberly The night was as black as a pupil. Randon, being an explorer, adventurer, and a poacher crept like a lion stalking its prey, among the brush. His rifle at hand and the helpless animal in site, he inched closer and closer. The boar looked up, with a fearful glint in its eye, and it snorted. It had heard the rustling of the reeds. It galloped along, but not far behind, as wild and graceful as the boar itself, was Randon keeping good pace. Randon screamed and shot the rifle. The magnificent beast fell. Then, guilt flowed like the raging waters of the Nile though his blood and trembled when he saw the boarâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s own pouring from the fatal wound. He had done what he must to get what he needed. But was it worth it?

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THE MYSTERIOUS MURDER Sarah Truxal Grade 7, Bellevue It has been a long and restless night, I look over at the clock, it read 11:59. I have been staying at my grandparent’s house for a month now. I’ve had fun and all, but I miss my parents, my house, my pets. I don’t think I can stay for two more months. I look over at the clock again. As the chime for midnight starts going off, I hear a scream right beside me. I turn over and see my sister missing from her bed. I turn towards the door and see it slightly open. I figure my sister is downstairs because that’s where the scream came from. Quietly, I get out of my bed and leave the room. As I down the stairs, I see a shadow lit by the full moon. I hear someone opening the front door and then I see him. A man in all black with a knife in his hand. As he leaves, he turns, looking to see if anyone else witnessed what he’d done. Luckily, he doesn’t see me and leaves the house. I hear an engine start up and leave. I turn my head to the kitchen and see my sister on the ground.

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THE RIVER Emily Thayer Grade 7, Sun Valley The crashing of the waves is a lovely ballad in the distance, mysterious, yet magical. The family swimming, playing, laughing, a mountain above watches the river, the water feels like the color green. The birds glide, searching for a shady spot to rest, as the river flows up and down. All the different creatures, fish, squirrels, birds chattering in the tree tops, and swimming down below, water the color of Tuesday. The cool, fresh feeling on your fingertips as you gaze into the glimmer.

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A CROWD OF ROCKS Sophia Coplin Grade 8, Hailey A crowd of rocks scattered all over making the perfect place to relax. The water being held back by the smooth rocks bubbles by like the wind always hurried, as if just behind the clock. The rocks never understand the water, why it needs to get somewhere and how it insists on wearing away the edges as if the rocks were needing to roll everywhere. The river only understands the consciousness of itself the blue, green and clear, the river knows of the minnows, darting back and forth as if trying to understand a mirror. The sand and silt, taking a ride on a coaster, loving the taste of the sweet water, but feeling lonely from the separation of the rocks.

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THANK YOU Leah Thayer Grade 7, Sun Valley Thank you for the way that water feels refreshing and calm. For paint on a brush, the hair on my head, bright lights on the ceiling, and twinkling stars in the sky. For the fluffy tiny feathers in my pillow. Thank you for summertime in the sun, the laces on my shoes for ladybugs in the grass, crawling about. Thank you for the sparkle in peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eyes for kindness and love, for warm soup on days that I am sick. Thank you for small things.

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WRITING WILD Do the sky’s mournful eyes look down to Earth Or up to the stars? — CLARE NELSON, Grade 9

ARONA JONES, BOOK 2: Something in the Water Michael Whitmer Grade 5, Boise Let’s begin where we left off, I was in the Amazon River. A crocodile was coming near, closer and closer until it opened its huge jaws and ‘snap!’ Apparently, the crocodile wanted the big fish in front of me. Whew, talk about luck!

THE HOT SPRINGS Darcie Bushee Grade 4, Boise The water animals were always cold because the water was freezing. Then a giant squid decided to go under the water on a search for warmth. So did a sea turtle. The giant squid came back with nothing but the sea turtle and said, “I have found a volcano.” “How is that going to help?” He told them his plan. So all the animals got all the whales and dolphins and they said, “Splash the water over the volcano.” Then, the whales and dolphins splashed and splashed. All the water went over the volcano. The water turned nice and hot.

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LIFE INSIDE OF A PENCIL Cassidy Boersig Grade 4, Boise If I was the inside of a pencil I would be carved with love and peace I would have lead, with hope in it.

I AM ALIVE Aidan Wren Borders Grade 6, Boise I am the maroon of blood flowing out of a wound I am the chartreuse of the blowing willow leaves I am the wind which blows the clouds I am the playful golden-red light of the sunset I am the dingo who plays on the sand I am the glittering crystals of the orange dust I am the cheetah who runs in pace with the wind I am the glowing sun shining bright in the sky I am the hills silhouetted against the moon I am the diamond eyes of the clowns I am the wrinkled trunk of the elephant I am life

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WHAT AM I Asher Hawkins Grade 6, Boise I am the red of a bright warm sun I am the icy chill you get when looking off a tall cliff I am the well-rested feeling you get when awakening from a deep slumber I am the deadly feeling of a Pandapocalypse I am the wanting feeling when you see a bird soaring I am what I am

I AM POEM Katie Mynar Grade 6, Boise I am the bright part of the green I am thinking about volleyball because itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s on my mind I am the purple and orange in the sunrise I am the basketball flying through the air I am the icing on the cake I am the dolphin of the sea and the cat of the house I am the friend at the birthday party I am not the night or the morning, but the afternoon I am me!

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BOW + ARROW Quinn McRoberts Grade 6, Boise As the water trickles down I hear a whisper. The breeze in the tree Reminds me of old times. I toss a stone. The ripple looks like a target. I draw my arrow and shoot. A leaf from the tree above falls below. The rust on a stone in the stream Looks like the sun setting. I wait for a sound. Then, I draw another arrow and Shoot.

THINGS TO DO IN A JAGUAR Riley Ross Grade 5, Boise Play hide and seek with a mouse behind his teeth. Play tick tack toe in his stomach, oh. Tell creepy stories when his mouth is shut. Brush his teeth with a bristly brush. Sleep and dream inside his brain. Mess up his eyes, and start the lies and do all of that inside of him.

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FOOTHILLS JOURNEY Amariah Kotte Grade 8, Boise It’s not the Sahara. The heat could be softly challenged by the wind. It’s like an ocean of brush; the wind causes it all to flow in one direction. For our noses it’s shopping day; the wide array of smells is like a grand orchestra. The weeds brush my legs as I walk by; beads for eyes, snakeskin for a cloak, and a whip for a tail. Creepy crawlies stalk me as I move along. They are ever watchful. Steps in the dirt sound over and over. All the ants are busy finding good deals on food. The birds are competing for a Grammy, lifting up soulful voices. None of them seem to be winning. They just keep singing and singing. Children’s laughter and chatter drifts its way to me. A dog barks. He smells something we can’t see. He knows something we don’t. Eyes watching through the bitterbrush, the figure disappears and a flash of white catches my eyes. The sun chases me away with her heated star. But I’ll be back.

THINGS TO DO IN THE SKY Emily Mynar Grade 5, Boise Count the different shades of blue. Float into the fluffy white clouds. Drink the rainwater while it pours down below. Pick the individual feathers off of birds just so you can fly. Swim in a pool of thunder. Do anything all inside the sky. 295

THE PROBLEM Riley Morgan Grade 7, Parma The boy was horrified. He woke up from his bad dream then looked down at his feet to find his bed empty. He thought, I must still be dreaming. So he pinched himself and realized that he wasn’t. He jumped up, took off his Elmo PJs, and put his monster truck shirt on. He knew we would have to start looking now and he started with her favorite places. Kevin looked everywhere, but not in the forest. He found footprints, but they could’ve belonged to a different animal. He didn’t have a car, so he had to do everything by foot. The mailman passed by and smirked because he didn’t get attacked. Behind him, with an evil smile on his face, was the dogcatcher. Kevin ran all the way to the forest. When he got there he was surprised to run into Isabella, his crush. He loved her so much that he couldn’t think right. She asked him if he would like to have lunch with her. He said yes, forgetting about the dog. As soon as he remembered his dog he tried to back out, but his crush grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. “What are you doing?” “Going to get my dog!” “You have to choose: me or the dog.” Kevin sat down, confused. Will it be Shasta, or Isabella? “Shasta!” Kevin ran off proud yet sad to lose a girl like that. I’ll get over it he thought. Once he got to the forest, he smiled. It turns out there was an electric fence around it! When he touched it with a stick it caught fire then shriveled up like a cooked morel. He threw a rock at it and the rock turned to pebbles. He tried to jump over, but found himself on the ground. He brushed himself off, and slowly putting his hand out, he felt an invisible shield. He started running, eager to find a way inside. Without warning, a rabbit scuttled under the fence. Ah ha, I found my way in! He heard a rustle in the bushes, but it 296

was only a squirrel. He thought he saw Shasta, but it was only a deer. Kevin sat on the soft needles under a pine tree. He thought he would never find Shasta. He heard a rustle above him. A kingbird was hoping branch to branch. Suddenly, a voice came out of nowhere. He sprang to his feet and looked for the speaker. “Hello down there!” Startled, Kevin looked up and said, “Did you just talk?” “Well, yes, of course, every animal can talk inside the fence.” Kevin was speechless. “Have you seen my dog?” “Is he big?” the bird asked. “Yes,” holding out his hand, “she is about THIS big and golden yellow. Her eyes are brown and she always wags her tail and loves treats.” “I’ve seen a dog like that. He was with a rabbit. Come on, I’ll show you!” Another voice said, “No need for that.” Kevin spun around and his eyes grew. The dogcatcher! At the dogcatcher’s side was Shasta. Kevin knelt down and threw his arms around Shasta’s neck. “Why did you run away?” “Well, I was going down to get a drink and there was a rabbit twitching his nose. We started playing a game. He was running and I was chasing but right when I was about to tag him a bird with a yellow breast swooped at me.” “I did not!” The kingbird shouted. “I thought you were a deer, so I was checking you out!” Kevin said, “I’m just glad you’re safe.” Of course, everyone is safe inside the magic fence. Kevin smiled and hugged Shasta once more. “You better take her home, sonny.” The dogcatcher said. “But…but I thought you were going to take her to the pound? “No, I was just trying to help you find her.”

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EVOLUTION Clare Nelson Grade 9, Boise Why do the leaves decide To break away in autumn? Do the skyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mournful eyes look down to Earth Or up to the stars? Is the twig a treeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rejected limb Or the beginning of a tree wandering for a purpose? How did the animal Find the will to become more complex than the plant? Does water flow in a crowd of molecules or as one conformed group? ***** Water Like unevenly-set glass Resting upon a base of sand, A dinner table With stones for dishes And willow leaves for salads.

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10 THINGS I WANT TO DO EVERYDAY Anna Schmitz Grade 9, Boise Hit snooze Close the windows Give the cat Cheerios Tackle the dog Burn waffles Mimic the clouds Curse at Spongebob Draw an elephant Tie things to the fan Destroy the bed Take a nap Level up Light a mantis on fire Roll on the grass Make shadow puppets Impersonate the movies Get sarcastic Mold ice cream Run with scissors Blow up a potato Ask for seconds Moan like a cow Have a slap fight Swing on a willow Wear a cape Write backwards Invent an accent Get angry Misuse duct tape Coke & Mentos

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THE STUBBORN PIECE OF GRASS Adrianna Peter Grade 7, Boise I don’t know why, but I have decided this one piece of grass is too tall. I have decided to cut it. I look around in the house and the only pair of scissors I have are rusty ones from 1930. Wow, just when I need good scissors, they’re from 1930. Thanks! Oh, whatever, they’ll work. This is still going to be a piece of cake. I open the scissors and they break. Thanks scissors, right when I need you, you break!?! Okay, now we’ll just have to mow this dumb piece of grass down. When I get to the garden house, I find a ton of stuff piled from floor to ceiling and in the back, the lawnmower. Wow, facepalm! After finally getting to the lawnmower and getting it out, four falls and a broken thumb later, I am ready to mow down that grass. Riding toward the grass, I know it doesn’t stand a chance. Two feet, one foot, six inches, one inch, the mower suddenly goes, chug chug chug…click! The mower died. Why? It still has gas. Argh. Okay, so I’m not the most patient person in the world, so it’s time to go extreme. I call up a friend from the Army and ask him to do a flyover and drop a bomb right over that grass. Now that grass is going down! Two hours later I hear the plane as I watch from afar. It flies in one circle and then goes right over the grass. When he drops the bomb I start to smile. Finally, that grass is going down. When the bomb explodes dust and dirt fly. When the dust clears I almost faint with shock—the grass is still there. I start to feel queasy so I go lie down. When I wake up, I decide to go talk the grass into falling over. Hey, this is my last resort, what do you expect me to do? So I go outside and sit down with that grass. Before I can begin to talk to the grass, a little boy, about six, comes up to me. 300

“Hi, what are you doing?” He asks. “I’m trying to get this piece of grass to fall over.” “Let me help.” What is he going to do? Wait, how did he do that? He just bent over, grabbed the grass, and pulled it out! Why didn’t I do that!? He looked kind of surprised I hadn’t done that myself. Wow, I just got burned by a six-year old!

ADMIRE David Castleberry Grade 8, Boise The oak tree stares out at the world through its little knot, and thinks, “Why have legs when you can stay here?” The deer stares at the tree with its shiny round eyes, and thinks, “Why stay here when you can admire the world?” The world looks at the deer through its wonderful lakes and forests, and thinks, “Why admire me when you can explore?” Everything looks at the world through hopes, dreams, compassion and love, and says, “Admire and explore but don’t forget where you are.”

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CORNFLOWERS Abby Elsethagen Grade 7, Eagle Whenever I see a cornflower, It reminds me of peace It takes me to a place where everything is perfect Where no one cares and there is no death. All peace, no war. It takes me to a field, a clearing Filled with cornflowers Where I spend the rest of my daydream Thinking and wishing that our real world Was exactly like my peaceful world. The other day, I saw a cornflower It reminded me of my peaceful world. I closed my eyes, and when they opened That was where I sat In a field of cornflowers. There was no war and no death. I spent a day or two there Just dancing, thinking, dreaming. I closed my eyes beneath a willow tree But when I opened them again I sat in bed at home. I realized it was just a dream, but I knew It could be real Because in my mind, my peaceful world Is not a dream at all.

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LAUGHING, JOKING FLOWERS Breanna Thompson Grade 7, Nampa The bright color Of the blue-and-white flowers Can be bothersome When one wants to admire the vastness Of the colors brown and gray. They come out of nowhere, startling and laughing. It is hard to concentrate when the joking flowers Try to surprise But some day, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll have a need for them too. Not a care in the world have they Laughing joyfully all day Bent by the breeze. Some days make me sneeze As they happily trick and play. Wait! Maybe their purpose is more. Their color is, I admit, pleasing to the eye A wonderful break from monotonous brown Yes, the small flowers are beautiful. Lovely in color, petite in size Perfectly noble, the one wrong was I. They are not here to make fun but rather to please. Now I desire to pick out their color from the same Browns and grays belonging to me.

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OLD MEMORIES Jusung Lee Grade 7, Boise I remember the crashing waves The sun beating its rays of heat The California coast I remember the muddy shore of Oregon The swirling browns and grays I remember the streets of San Francisco Lights and posters covering all I remember days with friends Laughter, a constant echo I remember the rustling of the wind And grass Its own little tune Playing when it chooses to I remember the golden flowers Bending and dancing With the song of the wind I remember sticky fingers And smiling faces I remember reading Adventures of old I remember

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THE BRINGERS OF JOY Claire Deckers Grade 8, Eagle Leaves are the Smell of summer The Feeling of joy as I welcome the coming Hot, steamy months. Leaves are the Treeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s new dress Draping her in soft, dappled colors. The trees Once ominous Are now bright And cheerful They make everything more beautiful. Leaves are the Rustling sound in the Breeze The ocean Of the forest. Leaves are the Crunching underfoot The sound reminds me Of barefoot children running And laughing. Leaves are the Taste of a new season Leaves are the Bringers of joy.

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SAMMY’S DOLLS Kaelie Kuehl Grade 8, Boise The eerie dim lighted basement glowed with passion as Sammy entered. An impressive collection of buttons, blood speckled clothes and preserved eyeballs in jars lay scattered on top of a shelf her father had built himself. She remembered spying on her father from the closet, admiring his work in secret. The senile fools she called her grandparents would never understand their son’s work, nor would they understand Sammy’s. Sammy hung up her lab coat in the rusty closet, the edges brown and rugged from hanging on the floor of the hospital all day. Her photo I.D., taken at the golden age of 25 starred her down from inside its shinny casing. Long golden hair turned dishwater brown and crystal clear eyes plagued with astigmatism. Her new toy lay helpless on the workbench, a former patient. The woman’s beauty was fake, nothing more than silicon and Botulinum. Simple operations that Sammy had performed herself for an absurd amount of money. She clicked the electric razor to life, a comforting buzz reverberating around the room. Sammy wetted a musty smelling towel and wiped away the toxic makeup from the woman’s pale face. Sammy sauntered over to the shelf running her fingers against the splintered wood. The faint smell of formaldehyde emanated from the jar of multiple colored eyes. 32 pairs to be exact. Sammy closed her eyes and breathed deeply. As a young doctor just starting out, Sammy gazed at the various body parts around her bathed in the yellowing formaldehyde. “Pick what you like, Dr. Mchale,” said her attending. “Really, anything?” Asked Sammy in awe. “Think of it as a gift from me to you.”

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Sammy ran her fingers along jars of kidneys, ears and bits of intestine, but none of them felt right, until she came across a large pair of eyes, glaucoma clouding their lenses, “Take it home, Dr. McHale.” Sammy nodded herself back to the basement. She shifted her attention from the yarn bin, an opaque green catching her eye. It complimented the woman’s caramel eyes perfectly. The woman’s newly bald head would soon be covered in yarn snipped and braided to perfection. Sammy blew the woman a kiss, ran her fingers through the yarn and clicked off the lights. Tomorrow, she would tackle button eyes along with a change in wardrobe.

THE BONE OUT OF 500 Eagan Epeldi Grade 4, Boise I am a bone in the side of a wolf. I am one bone out of five hundred. I forgot my name one year ago. I am the last bone in the rib cage. Sometimes I like to talk with my best friend, ribs Other times I like to talk with fur but I never want to talk with teeth. He’s a big bully. As you can see I live the life of a normal bone. Goodbye. And that’s the story of the bone.

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FIRE Lauren Vandervelden Grade 7, Boise The thick crunches of metal and soot echoed throughout the night. A black figure gazed into the destruction. He bent down scrutinizing one of the remaining structures. No evidence, he sighed. Still leaning over, he walked under the ruin. His forehead dripped with sweat and blood, swimming into his dark eyebrows that hid his complexion. The pale light of the moon swam through the foreshadowing clouds, matching the tone of the manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s skin. As the moon stood there, with the last glimpses of fire sparkling in the night, his sadness turned to anger, which turned to rage. He swished around toward a structure and punched it, sending it toppling backwards, as if startled. This was not the end. Placing each fact slowly down on the glistening ground, the man started to head away from the site. Each step was with pain and then he stopped. Stopped with the pain of sadness. Moist, thick chocolate. Light, thin mint. It all swirled together to smell like fresh herbs. The scent was heavy and airy and luscious, but to him it was a sad smell. A smell that once filled the crisp hallways he used to walk down. A smell of the cleanly packed mints that were piled orderly at the receptionistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s desk. Now there was nothing. No mints. Just their smell. The smell of burnt chocolate mints. As he walked farther way from the ruins, a limp in his left leg was distinct, and so was the outline of metal lining it. As the metal ran more and more up his leg, the more senseless he became until he fell into a pit of blackness.

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HEAD GAMES Lauren Dean Grade 9, Meridian Aleve, Ibuprofen, Hydrocodone, none of it worked. As she sat on her bed in her dark room her head continued to pound. Even the comforts of her bedroom failed to ease the jackhammer in her skull. At its peak her migraine would impair her judgment and deafen her left ear. At work she had to maintain her steal mask of pure determination, but here in the comforts of her home she was free to express all the pain that her head had put her through during the day. When the vibration of her phone distracted her from her thoughts she looked down at it and grudgingly read the text message. “Hey, Kate R U OK? U left without saying bye :( ” It was just like her sister to notice small stuff like that. She could already picture her reply if she pointed that out. “Twin instinct,” she huffed to herself as she typed out, “Yeah, I’m fine sorry just tired.” She had a self-imposed role: show no weakness because when you show weakness, especially in this job, you get hurt, or worse, killed. With that done she walked slowly to her bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Her honey-blonde hair was a mess and the hollows under her eyes had deepened and darkened. Her hazelnut brown eyes were foggy and lacked the luster they usually had. Her skin was pale and clammy. As she walked back into her bedroom she stopped, the yellow curtains and fresh daises seems a deep contrast to her mood. In a sudden burst of frustration she swept her hand across the dresser smashing the pink vase against the wall. Sitting down on her cream colored comforter, she absentmindedly let her hand trace the pale yellow flowers that laced the border. It had been a gift from her mother for her birthday. Personally, she never would have picked it out, she would have gone for a plain gray or black but her mother thought it was feminine. The ringing of her cell phone pulled her from her thoughts. 309 “Sanders,” she replied briskly.

IF I COULD Bebe Blue Grade 4, Boise What to do if I could fly: I would fly over Boise. I would over US Bank. I would fly to my friends’ house. I would give them rides on my back. I would give my sister rides. If only I could fly. Things to do if I was a horse: I would run and buck and kick. I would want to be a paint. I would also want to be a filly. I would gallop to my friend’s house. I would give my friends rides and my sister. If only I was a horse.

STUCK IN LIFE Morgan Duplanty Grade 5, Boise I am a rock, big and round. I shall sit here for the rest of my life. I’m expecting to die of boredom in the next few days, but I don’t mind it. I’ve been waiting to die ever since I evolved on earth. I feel a touch on my face! Ahh, a butt! I’m being sat on by a child. I can’t see a thing. The child has left now so I can get back to boredom. The day has come. It’s time to die. I try, it doesn’t work. 310

THINGS TO DO WHEN YOU’RE ONE INCH TALL Bella Keefe Grade 4, Meridian If you’re one inch tall you can fill the sink with water and surf on the sponge or sword fight with a needle. Your trampoline is a plate of Jell-o even if you’re just a small fellow. Your house would take about your whole life to investigate. You could ride around the 50 states on a paper airplane. You could see wide and far just about anywhere you are. Too bad you’re not one inch tall!

HOW TO BE A JUNIPER TREE Aidan Scanlan Grade 4, Boise To be a juniper tree you must be tall, thick strong, chewy, have a toxic temper and smell like winter. You must be wavy, flimsy, broad, sneaky, love reading, have lots of knowledge and the discipline not to stray from your goal.

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WHAT TO EXPECT IF YOU’RE THE WALLS OF A HOUSE Iris Tseng Grade 4, Boise If you are the walls of a house, don’t expect to be dressed in pretty, floral wallpaper, but expect to be showered with rain, snow or the worst of all, hail, just to protect the people inside of you. If you happen to be the walls of a house fear the worse things that could happen to you, like dying and being reborn as something you didn’t expect, like the tops of a stove or an oven door. If you want to be the walls of a house, be aware that this is not the experience of anybody’s lifetime, unless you want to be the one who characterizes all those things I told you. I hope I changed your mind about being the walls of a house. If you actually want to be the walls of a house, just to experience the things in a fun-but-dangerous mission, be aware of what to expect when you’re the walls of a house.

WORDS FROM A TOTEM ANIMAL Jaelyn Quisel Grade 5, Boise I prowl through the foliage twigs snap, leaves sway in my wake. My paws make prints in the fresh earth and I hear waves rolling on the shore. I stand still, dignified and strong as the wind rustles through my pure white fur. 312

THINGS TO DO INSIDE A CLOUD Hallie Hinchman Grade 5, Boise swim in a pool of thick sticky jell-o with friends smell the beautiful wild wild sage ride on a vibrant-colored bee and help him pollinate the gorgeous flowers dream of anything all in a cloud

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I AM Josie Showalter Grade 6, Boise I am a blue sea glistening from the sun. I am the afternoon sun that sees everything below it. I am a pancake on a childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s plate ready to be enjoyed. I am the swimming seaweed at the bottom of the lake. I am the volleyball whooshing through the air ready to make the winning point. I am the answer of geese that fly over in the rich morning light. I am an elephant that is playing in the cool pond. I am the invisible air that soothes you every second of the day. I am the water that every one plays in the summer. I am life that brings me to be who I am.

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THE STORY OF THE ELK Ayla Sutton Grade 4, Boise Beneath the fur and skin and within the bulky horns of the elk, sits a smaller elk, sitting by a warm fire, a good book in hand. The elk looks very much at the mantel above the fireplace. He does, for the mantle holds a chute. What comes out of the chute is grass, all the grass his so-called mouth could eat comes out this chute for smaller elk’s lunch. The elk puts down his beloved book and grabs a bowl that sits beside the chute. The elk fingers what looks like a light switch and grinded grass shoots out of the chute and into a bowl. Here’s the elk’s supper. The grass is as chewy as bubble gum in the elk’s mouth. The elk sits in his easy-chair to enjoy supper. He soon returns the bowl and reads once again. He shall do the same thing every day till the end of his life. That’s the story of the elk.

THE HAWK Olivia Blue Grade 4, Boise A red tailed hawk Glides across the sky He sees a tiny bird He swoops, the tiny bird With one swipe of his talons

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UNKNOWN Marisa Shalz Grade 5, Boise Airy, unreal rich fine dirt collecting on the banks of a rippling stream. Trapped by pink roots of an unknown plant. Who am I? I am beautiful colorful. I am as radiant as the sun. Who am I internally? I am a mystery, unknown I am one of lifeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s many riddles.

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THE CONVERSATION Pete Bard Grade 4, Boise One day a zebra was walking along. His name was Carlos. Carlos was still walking when someone said, “Hi, do you want to talk?” Carlos turned and saw a koala walking behind him. The koala said hi again, “My name is Alex,” he said sticking out his hand. “Do you want to talk?” Carlos who had recovered from his shock said, “Sure, what do you want to talk about?” “Hmmm, how about animals?” asked Alex. “Sure,” Carlos said. “Are you a zebra?” asked Alex. “Yup. Are you a koala?” “Yes.” “What’s your favorite food?” Carlos asked. “Pizza!” replied Alex. “Same here,” replied Carlos astonished that Alex liked the same thing that he did. “Cool!” Alex said. “Alex, it is time for dinner!” his mother called. “I will be there in a second.” Alex called back. “Well, see you tomorrow.” Carlos said. “Yeah!” said Alex. Carlos walked home thinking he had made a great friend that day.

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WHITE DOG Lucas Brechbuhler Grade 5, Boise I’m a white dog, white as an igloo. I’m happier than a colt. I’m softer than a lamb’s bottom. I smell like dirt and wetness. My bark is like a RED alert, red alert! I’m a white dog, a big bag of fluff!

TIGERS Jonas Habig Grade 4, Boise As sad as a bumble bee They cry blue tears. Eyes pitch black as a pinecone They feel like elephants. Pink with blue spots Tigers eat sagebrush. Roaring like spiders Tigers hunt like squirrels From a hunter’s eye.

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I’M A FLAMINGO! Hannah Hart Grade 5, Boise It was a morning like no other for Julia. When she woke up her legs were over her bed. She felt that something was wrong. Julia looked at her legs, arms, and belly. They were pink! Her arms were aching because they were all scrunched up. She tried to stand up but she flopped on the floor. Julia was terrified when she discovered she was a flamingo! She didn’t want to be one! She didn’t know how to be one. Julia tried to stand up one more time. When she stood up she tried to walk and she flopped on the floor again. She tried again and again and again and again. It was when she looked at her feet and saw that they were stuck together that she said, “This is going to be a hard life.”

FROG Sammy Millward Grade 5, Boise I wake up I am a frog I am slippery This is a surprise I croak and ribbit Dry out and die

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THE RED CLIFF TRAIL Audrey Huang Grade 4, Boise A group hikes up a trail called the Red Cliff Trail. Nobody knows why it is called the Red Cliff Trail. They hike uphill and see amazing sights. A girl with a very long stick runs faster than the others as if she were a scout. She reaches the top first and shouts. The others continue climbing. Once all are at the top they take a break. Some eat their snacks, others start writing. Then, one of the adults passes a piece of paper to the other and asks her to read it. There are two paragraphs of The Metamorphosis by Frank Kafka on it. After that they all start writing. After a while they stop writing and start to hike again. A small fraction of the group is distracted by something. It is a giant bee buzzing around. Suddenly a big spider jumps up. It misses! The bee flies away. Then the small group discovers that it is a black widow. They take lots and lots of pictures. They catch up with the others. One person from the fraction goes up front with the girl with a very long stick. She has about shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes. She wears a blue tank top and blue shorts. It is I! We run and run and run. Then we stop. It is a red cliff! We all have fun there, for it is a perfect adventure.

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THE MAGIC DANDELION Sophia Mullin Grade 4, Boise I was walking on the mountain and I saw a giant dandelion flower. I had never seen one before. It was so beautiful, I picked it and took it home. When I got home I put it in a vase full of water. Then I went out to shop. While I was walking around the market looking for things, I was thinking of how beautiful it looked and how sweet it smelled, just like yellow. I was thinking of how it felt like a cloud and I was thinking of how it would taste like candy. I was thinking of how it sounded so nicely silent. I got all my stuff and I went home. When I got home I was going to clean the house but when I opened the door I couldn’t believe my eyes. The house was sparkling clean! I looked for my dandelion but it wasn’t in the vase! I searched everywhere! When I checked the kitchen I saw the dandelion hopping around cleaning the kitchen! I was speechless. The dandelion spoke to me. It said, “I’m just doing my job.” I said, “Oh, I was just a little scared for a second!” The next day I had an idea. I would scatter the seeds from the flower I had on the mountain to make more. Soon there were fields and fields of dandelions. I kept two so they could clean my house.

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WILD ROSE Josie Pape Grade 6, Boise A beautiful speckled rose tilts toward the sun. The petals are white with pink dots on them like someone started to paint them but never finished. The person was lazy and had to go paint another flower somewhere else. Its thorns show how it is tough, but its beauty shows its sweet and loving heart. Deep inside the rose, tiny creatures are at work. They keep the rose alive. They control the sunlight and move it toward the roseâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s petals. They carry tiny buckets to catch raindrops to water the rose. Everyone has a job and does it perfectly.

ANOTHER BLESSING Siena Estrem Grade 4, Boise In the middle of writing camp I lie down in the grass and watch all the bugs land on me and my folder. They come and go like the wind moving through the trees. I hear the rustle of the trees and grass. The sun is bright in my eyes, and butterflies and birds fly overhead. I see people enjoying the nice warm sun and children frolicking in the grass. I shield my eyes from the sun with my binder, take off my jacket and watch the sun make the falconâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s feathers glow. I am the grass as I watch the clouds curl and flow. 322

COZY BED Lindsey Habig Grade 6, Boise The sheets were cozy, especially When the windows collected frost And icy air seeped under the door. There are two things that I enjoy, fat, thick sheets pulled over me, and a cup of hot cocoa. To be cuddled in the blankets, Without being disturbed is The next best thing to summer.

THE GRANOLA BAR Dezmo DeGano Grade 5, Eagle One day an ant went out of the ant hole and went to go look for food. A leaf fell in front of him and the ant started to climb the leaf. When he got over it he saw a granola bar as tall as a bird. He went to go get more ants and they brought it back home. What do you think the ant will do the next day? 323

ANT HOLE Carson Wood Grade 6, Boise It could be large It could be small. What is it? Thousands of ants speeding around in it. What is so special? Is it a place with skyscrapers made of granola bars and rivers of spilled coke? Is it a place with magical creatures as big as elephants? Or a place with color, spilling beautiful creatures and amazing wars? Does it have long hallways filled with candy? Does the queen have a huge castle? What is it like to be so far down there? What is it?

THE CREEK Alec Martin Grade 4, Boise Listen. Can you hear it? Can you hear the crystal clear water? The gentle water running over rocks. The sun gleaming on the water reminds me of a gentle snake running for a long time with food, but no water. Smooth rocks with water going over and over again. Rapids are like mini waterfalls, you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know where they will stop; they might go on forever. The current might get stronger and it might become a river. The river might go down Niagara Falls or Shoshone Falls and it might stop at a dam.

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ANGELINEâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DELIGHT SONG Angeline Silva Grade 6, Boise I am the sun setting on the earth below I am the marigold flowers swaying in the field I am the sycamore tree standing tall and proud I am the piercing black horse running in the moonlit night I am the American flag standing with pride and freedom I am the leaves rustling in the storm I am the fireworks booming in the air I am your reflection standing in the mirror I am the Mississippi river gleaming in the sunlight I am the laughter of a kid after a joke I am the deer standing in harmony to the earth I am the coyote howling to the moon I am the raging tornado swiping out all mankind I am the lollipop hypnotizing you through the candy store window I am the roaring waterfall plummeting to the earth below I am the fierce bear as powerful as all the gods I am alive I am alive I am in harmony with all people I am in justice with God I am alive I am alive I am alive with all the earth

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THINGS TO DO ON MARS Riley Richards Grade 6, Boise After you land, get out your pb and j and start to nibble but don’t eat all of it, save some. Go look for some Martians. If you find them, get a picture so you can prove they’re real. Your ship is out of power so find some iron – it’s raining iron, so you’re in luck. The air on Mars is cold, so pack your space underwear. Bring back some Martians so we can experiment on them. then go home.

THINGS TO DO ON A DESERTED ISLAND Ignatius Mullin Grade 6, Boise Build a sun hat out of twigs and grass in the middle of the day. Skip stones and listen to the splash of the stones hitting the water. Eat Golden Crunch Berries as you marvel at the trees that touch the sky. Make ketchup with the wild tomatoes. Soak your feet in the soothing water. Fall into the ocean for fun. Count the days. Study beetle bugs. Wish you were anyplace else.

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THINGS TO DO ON THE PLANET SATURN Ethan Millward Grade 6, Boise Last month I went to Saturn. I passed mustard-yellow Titan, then icy Enceladus, after that the frigid rings. Then I landed. Saturn is very cold and windy, so you want to dress warmly. There is almost no surface. Because of this you have to dress very lightly so you wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t sink deep. The only things I took were a Venus flytrap, my tent and a monkey. I stayed for many weeks. One day I was watching the rings when there was an explosion. My monkey shrieked. I knew a storm was coming. I ran inside my tent. One week later I left. I packed up and boarded my rocket, thinking one day I would come back.

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IN THE STOMACH OF A DRAGON Sydnie Rice Grade 4, Meridian In the boiling belly of a fearsome dragon, you can make fires from pieces of wood that the dragon has swallowed. You can also use your clothes, but I don’t recommend that. If your friends have also been swallowed, you could have a fireball fight. You can also climb up his throat and look out the hole in his tooth like a window. If you feel lonely, talk to the dragon from his belly. Sometimes he may talk to you. Ask him his name. Tell him a story. Or maybe ask for a computer, TV, or X Box 360. Also, you could ask for a jungle to play in.

BOOK TWO, THE PINE FORT Angus Baird Grade 6, Boise One morning, after the battle the sage looked upon the hill and saw a fort. It was surrounded by pine trees. The sage wanted the hill and was willing to share it with the bushes. So the sage asked the bushes to live with them and to fight the pine together. The bushes agreed. First they tried to compromise with the pine, but they wouldn’t leave. The sage tried again, but the pines said no again. They couldn’t take anymore. So they prepared a battle. To the sage’s surprise the pine kingdom was waiting for them. “Bushes and sage against pine!” Said the king of sage along with the king of the bushes. “Charge!” they both said. The armies started coming. They collided with a crash and the sage and the bush army drove the pine back, destroying their forces. The pine kingdom failed and left the hill. The sage and the bushes lived happily for the rest of time. 328

MY FEET DREAM OF MCCALL Addison Crowther Grade 6, Boise My feet, with their hard boney top are like paved sidewalk cement but smooth. My feet that are filled with black amethyst lotion, they just love slipping into vibrant polka-dot sheets and warm quilts that cover them on fairly cold nights. My feet love warming by the fire coals, observing the brown gooey marshmallow slip off the red willow stick. My feet like slipping into cool mud on a hot afternoon while it makes its way between my toes. My feet hate to get stabbed by sharp McCall pinecones in rough McCall sand. My feet also hate falling into the freezing cold, numbing water of McCall lake. Walking barefoot, my feet feel like a petite raccoon stepping on hard dry grass on a cool night looking for half-eaten meals. Barefoot, I feel like I am stepping on raw angel hair noodles waiting to be cooked in boiling water.

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IN THE BELLY OF A DINOSAUR Koby Martin Grade 5, Boise In the belly of a dinosaur you could go swimming in the gooey leaves make lots of slimy cheese go rock climbing the esophagus. It might eat asparagus.

There are many things you can see.

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Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been driven crazy.

WILD THINGS TO DO ON A PEPPERONI PIZZA London Montalbano Grade 4, Boise Close your eyes

and tan

on the sizzling pizza in the oven.

Swim in a pool of oil,

sleep on a pepperoni, eat some cheese below the rubbery dough. Jump on dough like a trampoline plop

plop

and sink in the dough

like it’s a bed.

I’m going to sleep in

d o u g h.

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WHY Abby Moone Grade 6, Boise As I sit watching the grasses wave and shimmer in the summer heat it occurs to me: Why? Why do the grasses wave? Is it because of the cool wisp of wind that penetrates the still air? Why does the creek whisper and giggle as you tell it your secrets and why do the ripples sparkle, crystals in the water? A song interrupts my thoughts, twittered by a bluebird sitting in a bush dotted with red and yellow flowers. There is nothing to disturb me now, a peace has settled and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s beautiful as a starry sky reflected in a lake. Nothing worries me now. I am at peace and the song of the birds along with the giggling creek drift me to sleep. 332

TEACHING WRITERS’ BIOGRAPHIES Guisela Bahruth is a writer, editor and language instructor. She has been living, raising a family, teaching, and writing in the United States for over twenty years. Her experiences with multiculturalism have led her to political insights, which have inspired much of her writing and teachings. Presently, she works with novice women authors, young and old, and street children in Guatemala, who are engaging in processes to establish their voices and identities through literacy. Guisela is the co-founder of Publicaciones Plétora, Women’s Press. Amanda Bennett grew up in Connecticut. She double majored in chemistry and creative writing at Hamilton College in New York. She received her MFA in fiction writing from Boise State University, where she now teaches composition and writing courses. Her most recent published work can be found in the spring issue of Confrontation. She is working on a novel (of sorts) set in Portland, Oregon, and, of course, Connecticut. Daniel Clausen writes poetry, fiction, essays, and translates from German. He currently teaches literature at Boise State. His writing has been recognized in Boise Weekly’s Fiction 101 contest, and he recently won a national award for his translation from Georg Klein’s novel Roman Unsere Kindheit. Malia Collins’ first children’s book, Pele and Poliahu, A Tale of Fire and Ice won a 2006 Ka Palapala Po’okela Award for Excellence in Children’s Hawaiian Culture. Her second book, Santa’s Hawaiian Holiday, was a bestseller. She has been a WITS and Camps teaching writer for over five years and is a teaching artist with the Idaho Commission on the Arts. She is currently at work on her third children’s book. 335

Ashley Gould completed her undergraduate degree in Michigan and recently received her MFA in Creative Writing from Boise State University. Her most recent poetry, essays, and reviews can be found at New Orleans Review, Columbia Review, and Unsaid. She is the author of two chapbooks, Arousing Notoriety (a split ep with Amber Nelson) and Dutch Baby Combo (The Boys are Talking about Restlessness at Five Points). She is the Managing Editor for Black Ocean, a poetry publisher. Torin Jensen is a student in the Master in Fine Arts program in Creative Writing at Boise State University where he also organizes the MFA Reading Series. In addition to his own work, he translates poetry from Spanish into English and is at work on a book by the Mexican poet Valerie Mejer. Adrian Kien has been teaching with The Cabin since 2009. Most recently, he is the author of The Caress is a Letter of Instruction (soon to be released by Slope Editions) and Look Up, a collaborative book of poetry and drawings by Kelly Packer. Adrian enjoys bicycles, skiing and finding old animal bones for his wife to paint. He teaches poetry at BSU. Genna Kohlhardt grew up in Colorado and currently lives in Boise where she writes poems and translates. She graduated with a MFA in Poetry from Boise State University, where she currently teaches. Her poems have appeared in Strange Machine Magazine, H_NGM_N and are forthcoming in Fact-Simile. Heidi Kraay writes plays, poetry, stories and essays. She especially loves bridging gaps between genres, now finishing her first novel-in-collaboration with musicians. Her work has been published by Log Cabin Books, The Zodiac Review and The Boisean, among others. Her plays have been developed and produced locally, regionally and in NYC. Bill Pettitt is a fiction writer and filmmaker from Phoenix, Arizona. He currently teaches creative writing, composition and the Art of Film at the College of Western Idaho. His work has appeared in Zoetrope All-Story Extra and The Robert Olen Butler Prize Anthology. 336

Ruth Salter has taught summer workshops at The Cabin since 2010. Her poems and essays have appeared in several periodicals and anthologies, including Boise Weekly, Chiron Review, Calyx, Nerve Cowboy, and The Healing Art of Writing. She also teaches at Boise State and is a board member of Big Tree Arts, a local non-profit that sponsors performance poetry. Daniel Stewart is the author of the book of poems, The Imaginary World (2003). His poems have appeared in numerous periodicals, including Skidrow Penthouse, Puerto Del Sol, Rattle, Prairie Schooner, Lonesome Fowl, Forty Ounce Bachelors, Educe Journal, and Thrush Poetry Journal. Kerri Webster is the author of two books of poems, Grand & Arsenal (University of Iowa, 2012), and We Do Not Eat Our Hearts Alone, (University of Georgia, 2005), and is the recipient of a 2011 Whiting Award. Megan Williams writes, farms, and waits tables in Boise, where she curates GHOSTS & PROJECTORS. a poetry reading series. Her poetry was named runner-up in the “Discovery”/Boston Review Poetry Contest 2011, and has appeared in journals Tin House, PANK, VINYL POETRY, G E M, among others. Christian Winn’s fiction has appeared in McSweeney’s, the Chicago Tribune Printers Row, Handful of Dust, Everyday Fiction, Santa Monica Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Chattahoochee Review, Greensboro Review, Bat City Review, Gulf Coast (as winner of their annual fiction contest), cold-drill and The Pinch. He has been nominated for a Pushcart and Best American Mystery Story Award. He is a graduate of Boise State Master of Fine Arts in fiction writing, and founder of the Writers Write workshop series. He teaches undergraduate creative writing at Boise State.

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ABOUT THE CABIN The Cabinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mission is to inspire and celebrate a love of reading, writing, and discourse throughout Idaho and the region. Each year, The Cabin serves about 750 members, more than 2,000 children and youth, and about 30,000 people through educational and cultural programs. Programs for young people are the largest part of The Cabinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s work. The Cabin has transitioned from a young literary organization to a cultural anchor in Idaho and serves diverse constituencies through:

Readings & Conversations an annual lecture series featuring world-class authors.

Writers in the Schools (WITS) which places professional writers in classrooms across the state.

Idaho Writing Camps offering creative writing adventures for youth and adults.

Writers in the Attic an annual publication opportunity for local writers.

Read Me Treasure Valley an invitation for the community to read the same book.

Literary activities such as visiting author workshops, readings by Idaho authors, and other programs for readers and writers of all ages.

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ACKNOWLEGEMENTS Idaho Writing Camps touch the lives of hundreds of young people and adults each summer thanks to the talents of teaching writers, the generosity of funders and our volunteers. Scholarship funding is a valuable part of our service mission, making it possible for diverse constituents to participate in this unique camp experience. Many students benefited from scholarships this year with funding provided by individual donors, cabin members and community foundations. Special thanks to the Bistline Advised Fund in the Idaho Community Foundation, the Langroise Advised Fund in the Idaho Community Foundation, the John William Jackson Fund, Steele-Reese Foundation, Whitney AscuenaBolt, Amy Dixon, Tony and Shauna Doerr, Darcy and Jeff Klausman, Vesna Persun, Stacie and Joe Rice, Phil and Sage Rogers, and Jayne Stevenson. The Cabinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Board of Directors provides encouragement and support for camps. We are grateful for their work. Thanks to Karen Baerlocher, Bruce Ballenger, Kacy Berliner, Karla Bodner, Alex Davis, Mark Geston, Dana Kehr, Jill Reardon, Stacie Rice, Susan Rowe, Diane Schwarz, Marsha Smith and Jem Wierenga. Volunteers also contribute to the success of Idaho Writing Camps. Many thanks to our 2012 volunteers including Jason Hunt, Kate McNearney, Ana Roser, Torin Jensen, Julie Howard, Megan Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Rourke, Rebecca Sommer, Susan Buchel, John Wulf, Emily Melander, Alyssa Bodenbender, Jacqueline Wayment, Sam Nelson, Colleen Brennen, Laura Roghaar, Lisa Maybon, Erin Nelson, and Heidi Kraay. And thank you to our friends throughout the state who provided venues, learning opportunities, and field trip locations for our campers. We extend a heartfelt thanks for 341

their warm and enthusiastic welcoming: Sun Valley Center for the Arts in Hailey, the Fine Arts Center at the College of Southern Idaho in Twin Falls, Foothills Learning Center in Boise, Fort Hall Indian Reservation, Boise Art Museum, Idaho State Historical Museum, Zoo Boise, the Herrett Center for Arts and Science, Adrian Kershaw and the 8th Street Marketplace Artist-in-Residence program, Moonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s CafĂŠ, and Boise Parks and Recreation.

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INDEX A Afnan-Manns, Liam • 44 Alsop, Isaac • 200 Anderson, Eliana • 203 Andrew, Kelby • 109 Andrich, Marguerite • 166 Archibald, Isabella • 195 Ascuena-Mercil, Ashley • 129 Austin, Dacia • 234 Avey, Nathan • 104

B Bailes, Tori • 8 Baird, Angus • 328 Baker, Ella • 77 Balderrama, Ava • 53 Barbera, Maloree • 165 Bard, Pete • 317 Bass, Megan • 18 Beikmann, Virginia • 89 Benson, Miranda • 281 Berliner, Leo • 40 Berliner, Ruby • 83 Berry, Megan • 29 Bied, Preston • 96 Billings, Tori • 220 Bingham, Emma • 14 Bischoff, Taylor • 46

Bjorneberg, Mari • 108 Bledsoe, Arlie • 112 Block, Allison • 277 Block, Camille • 87 Block, Rachel • 277 Blue, Bebe • 64, 310 Blue, Olivia • 63, 315 Board, Amelia • 114 Boaz, Jacob • 12 Boersig, Cassidy • 292 Borders, Aidan Wren • 292 Bowyer, Raegan • 112 Brechbuhler, Lucas • 318 Breidenbach, Grant • 219 Brendefur, Rachel • 173 Britton, Lauren • 196 Bruyninckx, Lucy • 260 Bunk, Olivia • 38 Burrow, Sophia • 108 Bushee, Darcie • 291 Butler, Finley • 216

C Carkhuff, Landon • 50 Carr, Zoe • 103 Castleberry, David • 301 Chandler, Kimball • 267 Chang, Cory • 17, 33, 65 Charters, Emma • 77

343

Chasin, Leah • 19 Chasin, Rachel • 8 Chasin, Sarah • 92 Cheng, Abby • 222 Chigbrow, Stella • 28 Ching, Carly • 64 Christiansen, Jessica • 282 Clark, Michelle • 48 Clouthier, Kyla • 61 Cluff, Zachary • 188 Coffman, Annika • 73 Coffman, Brittany • 201 Collingwood, Kaylin • 27 Connor, Katie • 7 Cooper, Emmerson • 58 Coplin, Sophia • 285 Crnich, Lauren • 43 Cronin, Jacqueline • 68 Crowther, Addison • 329 Cummings, Madison • 10 Curtin, Aidan • 125 Curtwright, Maddie • 224

D Dalsoglio, Hannah • 146 Daniel, John • 154, 246 Davidson, Madelyn • 142 Davis-Yee, Harper • 15 Dean, Lauren • 309 DeAngelis, Darci • 12 Deckers, Claire • 305 DeGano, Dezmo • 323 DeVol, Claire • 30, 34 Dixon, Lillian • 23 Duplanty, Morgan • 310 Durkin, Charlotte • 231

344

E Earl, Ana • 268 Easterday, Alicia • 110 Eckersell, Samantha • 73 Ellison, Brianna • 79 Ellison, Myriah • 35 Elsethagen, Abby • 302 Englert, Josie • 155 Epeldi, Eagan • 307 Eppes, Emily • 211 Eshbaugh, Emilie • 262 Estrem, Siena • 322 Everett, Savana • 226

F Faraca-Alcade, Sophia • 184, 211 Feeley, Molly • 86 Fjeld, Nathan • 66 Foltz-Ahlirchs, Rosie • 26 Freeman, McKayla • 233 Freeney, Molly • 168 Fujino, Hana • 96

G Gaddis, Emory • 137 Gaddis, Grace • 179 Ganieany, Micaylah • 271 Gardner, Ashton • 25 Garman, Brooke • 32 Garman, Lauren • 175 Gates, Madison • 163 Genther, Katherine • 247 Gillespie, Samuel • 97 Gipson, Samantha • 180 Goltry, Louisa • 141 Gordon, Claire • 26

Grant, Madison • 202 Graybill, Taura • 279 Grondahl, Breanne • 130, 256

H Habig, Jonas • 318 Habig, Lindsey • 323 Halford, Sean • 183 Hall, Emma • 49 Hamilton-Rubio, Stephanie • 238 Hancock, Joanna • 152 Harms, Anna • 50 Harms, Kaelyn • 84 Harms, Madison • 164 Hart, Hannah • 319 Hatton, Davis • 20 Haugeberg, McKinley • 11 Hawkins, Asher • 293 Heitz, Emma • 80 Henson, Elaine • 98 Hepworth, Hailey • 56 Hill, Mahalie • 270 Hinchman, Hallie • 313 Hodges, Ethan • 279 Holland, Alaina • 126 Holstine, Chris • 63 Hormaechea, Avery • 138 Huang, Audrey • 320 Humphrey, Bailey • 261

I Ide, Corinne • 16 Ireland, Edith • 101 Irving, Keanna • 157 Ivanoff, Matt • 195

J James, Emma • 250 Jan, Mashaal • 30 Jardine, Jake • 11 Jennings, Annelise • 21 Jennings, Marielle • 37 Jones, Alyssa • 127, 203 Jones, Dashiell • 134 Jones, Olivia • 66

K Keefe, Bella • 311 Keefe, Gabby • 178 Keim, Josie • 257 Kelly, Ciara • 114 Kingston, Sha Sha • 81, 182 Klausman, Ben • 223 Klausman, Owen • 106 Knothe, Cate • 132 Kochaver, Anna • 128 Kochaver, Emily • 178 Korte, Audrey • 227 Korte, Clare • 217 Kotte, Amariah • 295 Krause, Madeline • 162, 276 Krause, Zach • 85 Kuehl, Kaelie • 248, 306 Kwak, Minjun • 91, 167

L Lafrades, Lauren • 74 Lago, Emma • 116 Landau, Tanya • 269 Lane, Claire • 39 Lane, Drew • 239 Lane, Scott • 240 345

Lane, Warren • 35 Lanza, Allessandra • 51 Lark, Quincee • 255 Larsen, Kamryn • 156 Larsen, Paige • 171 Lee, Elizabeth • 197 Lee, Jusung • 304 Liebich, Carly • 278 Liebich, Maggie • 80 Lienke, Corbin • 29 Lindner, Alease • 13 Long, Emma • 263 Long, Andrew • 19 Loveless, Brianna • 235 Lu, Alyssa • 272 Ludwigson, Abby • 17 Ludwigson, Alex • 238 Luo, Anthony • 88 Lusby, Isabelle • 199

M Magbunduku, Sarah • 181 Maguire, Alice • 241 Martin, Alec • 324 Martin, Koby • 330 Matlock, Sara • 236 McDaniel, Madison • 36 McElwain, Clea • 255 McFerrin, Ruby • 119 McGinnis, Agnes • 197 McGovern, Diane • 213 McHargue, Elena • 186 McLaughlin, Cece • 133 McLaughlin, Luke • 161 McRoberts, Quinn • 294 Means, Jillian • 82 Mecham, Caroline • 33 346

Mecham, Rebecca • 95 Mermerian, Justice • 118 Mermerian, Liberty • 115 Metzger, Thomas • 275 Miller, Josephine • 78 Millward, Ethan • 327 Millward, Sammy • 319 Mitchell, Grace • 200 Mokwa, Leah • 174 Monoran, Estera • 139 Montalbano, London • 38, 331 Moone, Abby • 332 Moore, Seth • 120 Morfit, Lucy • 52 Morgan, Riley • 296 Moylan, Sophie • 91 Mullens, Camden • 131 Mullin, Ignatius • 326 Mullin, Sophia • 321 Myers, Nicola • 25 Mynar, Emily • 295 Mynar, Katie • 293

N Nagel, Colter • 43 Nagel, Madison • 199 Neil, Fletcher • 140 Neiwert, Twila • 273 Nelson, Clare • 298 Nelson, Sydney • 187 Neuhoff, Jackson • 149 Neuhoff, Sarah • 62 Newton, J. Owen • 242 Nicholes, Katherine • 75 Noeker, Lauren • 34

O O’Gara, Aiden • 208 O’Morrow, Daniel • 228 O’Neill, Katherine • 242 Otto, Natasha • 169, 210 Otto, Nikita • 170, 207

P Pape, Josie • 322 Peck, Abigail • 14 Peter, Adrianna • 266, 300 Peterson, Ethan • 254 Peterson, Kaisa • 13 Pfannmuller, Kaysa • 223 Phillips, Natalie • 107 Pierson, Maeve • 100 Pierson, Rowan • 198 Poppenga, Erin • 99 Prehn, Isabella • 67 Price, Henry • 243 Protzman, Conner • 105 Provant, Alex • 7

Q Quinn, Casey • 45 Quinn, Ryan • 90 Quisel, Jaelyn • 312

R Rainery, Jackson • 239 Raptosh, Colette • 237 Redford, Emma • 21 Reeder, Robin • 94 Reid, Christopher • 237 Remeis, Jesse • 244 Rice, Megan • 212 Rice, Sydnie • 328

Richards, Hannah • 190 Richards, Riley • 326 Ripson, Catherine • 54 Roark, Keenan • 158 Roberts, Rachel • 245 Roberts, Tao • 105 Robison, Addie • 102 Robison, Isabelle • 258 Robison, Will • 28 Robson, Madeleine • 251 Rogers, Grace • 143 Roper-Moyes, India • 274 Rosato, Jay • 231 Ross, Riley • 294 Rushton, Dillon • 113 Ryan, Madeline • 176

S Saleen, Josie • 117 Salter, Sierra • 61 Scanlan, Aidan • 311 Schabot, Samantha • 151 Schachtell, Jade • 120 Schachtell, Sylver • 244 Schill, Petie • 172 Schmitz, Anna • 299 Schwartzman, Katarina • 259 Schwartzman, Sophie • 204 Sefcsik, Arpad • 278 Seibert, Daisy • 31 Shafer-Coffey, Frances • 104 Shalz, Marisa • 316 Shalz, Sophia • 31 Shin, Mina • 27 Showalter, Josie • 314 Shumar, Maggie • 230 347

Silva, Angeline • 325 Simon, Tori • 59 Singer, Lucy • 160 Smith, Hattie • 232 Smith, Logan • 22 Smith, McKenna • 100 Snyder-Chavez, Gryffen • 144 Sparrow, Majerle • 101 Stadelmeir, Camden • 9 Stigile, Adaela • 37 Stigile, Blake • 103 Strand, Hank • 113 Summervill, Azlyn • 41 Summervill, Jaydn • 252 Sutton, Ayla • 315 Svoboda, Sam • 206 Swerdloff, Alexandra • 264

T Tappen, Anna • 93 Taylor, Audrey • 40 Taylor, Brooklyn • 24 Teed, Luan • 159 Teres, Andrea • 92 Teres, Arantza • 41 Thayer, Emily • 284 Thayer, Leah • 286 Thiede, Kendall • 245 Thomas, Madison • 85 Thompson, Breanna • 303 Thompson, Hamish • 218 Thueson, Klora • 102 Toh, Bing • 273 Toh, Minyu • 44 Travis, Ashley • 265 Truxal, Sarah • 283 Tseng, Iris • 312 348

V Valdez, Jillian • 214 Vandenberg, Emily • 121 Vandervelden, Lauren • 308 Vatcher, Delaney • 229 Vatcher, Ean • 135 Vatcher, Keely • 46

W Waddell, Catherine • 136 Wadner, James • 150 Waldmann, Blake • 24 Warren, Mattison • 10 Watts, Kennedy • 115 Webster, Gwyneth • 145 Wechsler, Abigail • 47 Wechsler, Audrey • 76 Weinert, Jules • 60 Welch, Levi • 280 Welch-Darrington, Alexandra • 266 Werdel, Carly • 257 Wheeler, Amelia • 111 Wheeler, Katherine • 110 Whitmer, Michael • 291 Wiebe, Brett • 62 Wilkes, Clarissa • 74 Williams, Bella • 95 Wilson, Sarah • 217 Wood, Carson • 324 Wood, Ian • 148

Y Yang, Elena • 42 Young, Allison • 97

Z Zanot, Karl • 205 Zanot, Sarah • 32 Zhang, Andrew • 253 Zhang, Henry • 254

349