The Memory House, et al

The Memory House

The Memory House

stays empty, quiet, alone.

Her shutters shut tight.


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

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