Doors of Thoughts
“What were you thinking?”
Thinking? I wasn’t thinking.
I guess I could tell you what
the voice in my head was saying,
but that’s different,
so I answer softly,
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Tell me, what do you know?”
Nothing. I don’t know anything.
You of all people should know that.
We aren’t exactly strangers.
“I don’t know what to do with you.”
Don’t do anything with me,
Just turn around and walk out the
Don’t look back,
I certainly wouldn’t—
It leaked through my window,
this morning at seven.
A little ray of sunshine,
a drop of happy.
I told it, it was lost,
that it should leave while it still could,
But if didn’t hear me,
or it chose not to.
I caught part of its golden gleam,
in a jar,
and traded it for some penny candy
at the corner store.
it wasn’t there.
I knew it wouldn’t be.
Landslides of Memory
He touches the slide that is caked in dirt,
and a flash of him flying down
the shiny slide on his father’s lap floods his mind.
She spies the rusty orange monkey bars
through the trees
and remembers when they were pink,
and she would swing from them.
Their eyes play a game of tag as they
try not to look at each other,
but it’s hard when they’re the only
people in the once-popular playground.
And he remembers the girl with braids
who always wore the purple coat.
And she remembers the cute little boy
who always wore sandals with butterflies on them.
And both of them remember the day
the two of them collided in front of the ladder,
when she was 5 and he was 4.
Their feet move of their own accord
and stop in front of the ladder.
And they face each other
as more memories come
Silver Liftin, Age 12, Grade 7, Saint Ann’s School, Silver Key