Poem One
The silver whistle hums a tune beside two brassy keys. Three bottle caps tap out a beat upon my denim knees, while rubber bands stretch long and high to catch the passing breeze.
Nobody hears the symphony until the recess bell. I keep the music tucked away inside my jacket well, where every rattle, chime, and click has secret tales to tell.
Poem Two
Midnight Cartwheels
When quiet settles on the roof and blankets tuck in deep, the yellow moon begins to spin while heavy houses sleep. I flip across the carpet floor without a single peep.
A starry constellation winks right past the window sill. We balance on a silver beam above the sleepy hill, then tiptoe back before the dawn turns chilly on the sill.
Poem Three
Smooth gray pebble in the sun, tell me where the currents run. You hold the chill of mountain snow, and listen where the reeds bend low.
Poet Three, "River Pebble"