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Harnessing the wind

By NANCY GREEN
Published July 31, 2006


Goodbye Stranger

I want you to hate me,

so that the lonely scraping of my feet

touching the gravel doesn't bother me.

 

I want you to abandon me,

so that as I pack my things piece

by piece, your picture won't be one of them.

 

I want you to forget everything I have said,

so that as I hand over my ticket and say

"Thank you," I know truthfully my words mean nothing.

 

I want you to move on.

So that as I look out the window

a tear rolling down my cheek,

I know you're back home doing better than I am.

Ashley Todd, 16, 10th grade, Gulf High School, New Port Richey

 

Magical Haven

Cool breeze flies through my hair when I step through the door to this magical haven. Fluffy white clouds hover over a silent pond. Its ripples dance to the beat of the whispering wind. Small patches of grass are scattered around this endless sea of green. An occasional blue or pink flower peers through towering weeds. In the distance, snowcapped mountains gaze at the golden sun. They are giants watching over us. They make sure that every bee gets to enjoy smooth, thick honey without interruption. Tiny hills appear as bumps on the road to tranquility. The pure blue sky ties everything together and makes it whole.

Jackie Varas, 12, seventh grade, Tarpon Springs Middle School

 

Is Nothing Holy Here?

The wind cries through the starless night

Screams of despair and agony, forever disembodied

From those who could not find shelter from the terror outside

Forsaken from peace and left to die, unnamed

Blood is the river that marks them

Caught in a battle that has no end

No end to the misery

No end for those who hear the voices

The voices that cry out to the sky, blackened by hatred,

Is nothing holy here?

For in never-ending annihilation

From the ghosts who carry the rotten stench of death

To the shots that ring through the night

Meant for one

Delivered to another

Is nothing holy here?

 

And in the cold cities of cement and steel

Ignorance a plague that doubles upon itself

The people live as a crowd

They care not for the shadow of a dying nation

They turn their backs to the pleas

Turn their backs to something they can't fix

And between the somber walls of their tedious lives

Squinting through the lies that paint the deaths

Lies that wrap the world like a snake

Lies that have the crowd asking,

Is nothing holy there?

The camera shows us truth

It shows us the mothers, the fathers, the children

Slaughtered by silhouettes in the dark of night

The unmarked graves

Wasting away, overlooked, overrun

Is nothing holy there?

 

But the crowd moves on

Toward the gray future of a life secluded

Where men view each other as mirrors

The voids of existence grow deeper

Where the birds fly through the blood-marked buildings

A torrent of devastation that rises like a storm

The husks of a once mighty people wander the streets

Where the world is chaos

Unbroken, unsolvable chaos

The birds, wishing in despair for the world that once was

They gaze upon the ever-darkening horizon

With the life of their songs forgotten with time

They look to the stars with unattainable dreams

Is nothing holy left?

Erica Rose Edmondson, 12, seventh grade, Bay Point Middle School, St. Petersburg

Summer Is . . .

The mosquito bite on your back that you can't reach

Swimsuits hanging on the bathroom door to dry

Block parties for the third night in a row

Reading a book long after dark knowing you can sleep in

Holding back tears as you say goodbye to friends at camp

No more endless nagging to brush your hair in the morning

Setting up a lemonade stand at your neighbor's yard sale

Buying a new boogie board at Piggly Wiggly

Watching fireworks from your parents' bedroom window

And missing your teacher . . .

Olivia Snow Smith, 9, third grade, Sunflower Private School, Gulfport

 

Recipe for Making a Sand Storm

Ingredients

19 Buckets of sand

62 Breaths of wind

30 Rattlesnakes flying around in the air

13 Uneasy camels glaring at the unwanted weather

Step 1: Mix 10 buckets of sand with 10 rattlesnakes and 3 camels in a 10-gallon bucket.

Step 2: Combine 31 breaths of wind with the remaining buckets of sand, rattlesnakes and camels.

Step 3: Put mixture on the stove, bring to a light simmer for 21/2 hours.

Step 4: Stir mixture counterclockwise every 30 seconds for 10 minutes.

Step 5: Add remaining wind while stirring clockwise.

Step 6: Take to Africa, let it build up for 10 minutes, release it and let it go wild!

Blake Celestian, 10, fourth grade, Sunflower Private School, Gulfport

Today's Xpressions blew us away: Find the peaceful image of fluffy white clouds hovering over a silent pond, its ripples dancing to the beat of the whispering wind; the disturbing image of the wind crying through the starless night; and 62 breaths of wind, as one of the essential ingredients in a recipe for making a sandstorm. To see your best work in Xpressions, follow the directions on this page.