The Memory House
The Memory House
stays empty, quiet, alone.
Her shutters shut tight.
Questioning
The endless questions
of society’s young ones
Burning in my mind.
Little Blue Eyes
No more baking brownies,
No more singing songs.
No more sneaking sodas,
No more right-ing wrongs.
The woman was gone,
yet her legacy remained.
Little blue eyes looked up at her father,
and watched as the clouded eyes rained.
An Old Friend
Leaves swirl around, dancing with the blue wind,
like little brown butterflies.*
Following you in,
following you out.
They surrender to the cold,
the wind,
the darkness.
Floating amongst us;
a shadow behind the chilly wind,
which haunts us.
Like an old friend.
*From “Autumn Thought” by Langston Hughes
Anna Lee
Age 14, Grade 8
Grace Church School
Gold Key