Each month, we feature EIGHT new pieces of student writing on the TWENTY-SIXTH of the month. (Get it?) This month, we are are featuring writing from Drop-in Writing and Creative Writing Workshops here on Liberty Street in Ann Arbor.
*Liberty Street Drop-in Writing & Workshops*
Beatrix Livesey-Stephens, age 14
“Riddle”
St. Leonard’s
Liberty Street Youth Drop-in Writing
I can carry out any task imaginable.
My body cannot be broken easily.
My colors can blind anyone who walks to me,
But even they dull over time.
I age just like you,
But I live forever.
If anyone needs me, I rush to their side.
But if they need comfort, I will never be able to understand.
What am I?
Answer at bottom
Rayaan Brar, age 12
“Riddle”
Clague Middle
Liberty Street Youth Drop-in Writing
I am so fragile that if you whisper my name, I will get destroyed.
No one can hear me, because I make no noise.
I am very lonely.
What am I?
Answer at bottom
Qistina Adzni, age 8
“My Sister”
Angell Elementary
Liberty Street Wee-Bots Drop-In Writing
On September 2012 my mom gave birth to my sister, Amani Qairina Adzni. She started walking at ten months old and learned the alphabet at about a year and a half. My sister can scream louder than she cries and sometimes gets chocolate in her hair. The first thing she does in the morning is sing. She loves princesses. Especially Cinderella. Now she is two and a half. She will turn three in two months. My sister is a crazy woman and I love her.
Edwin Li, age 7
“Ode To The Komodo Dragon”
Ann Arbor STEAM at Northside
Workshops: Odes To Animals
You like to eat fish
You look like a green alligator
Your skin is a basketball
ROAR
You smell like dirt.
Katherine Ma, age 8
“Ode To Dolphin”
Logan Elementary
You look like a raincloud.
Your blowhole is a water gun
You feel very slippery
Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!
You grab fish in the water
You look very cute
You smell like sea water
See you next time in the sea
Bye
Jayden Swann, age 11
“NOTEBOOKS”
Farms Intermediate
Workshop: Beyond Goosebumps, A New Take On Scary Stories
Another step. My feet burning, but still, I have to continue. I look over and see my friend, Chase, with annoyance wiped all over his face.
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” I say weakly, sounding way less encouraging than I intended.
“Every step I take, I feel like I’m stepping on fire!”
We trudge up a sand dune and down another. Eventually we peer over one more treacherous dune and find our little jeep next to the tent we have.
“Yay. How ‘bout we roll all the way down the dune?” Chase complains.
Suddenly thunder claps and clouds roll in like sheets covering the sky.
“What—” I begin, but am stopped by a sudden lightning bolt that seared through the sky and cracked right at the bottom of the dune.
Chase and I start sprinting to our campsite, completely lost on what we will do when we reached there.
We scramble to the tent and gather our stuff, when everything goes quiet.
My fingers loosen and I drop all of the clothes I had panickedly collected just seconds before. As I look out the door of the tent, I notice the sky, just as clear as day. Clouds had already gone, just as fast as they came.
“How—” I begin.
“WHAT is that?!” Chase shouts, and points at the crater at the very exact spot the lightning hit.
“That’s just where the lightning hit,” I say.
“No,” Chase says, “look at the inside of it.”
I walk forward and gasp, “Whoah.”
And there lies a notebook in the dead center.
Avalon McNew, age 8
“Review of Broccoli”
Ann Arbor Open
Workshop: A Writeable Feast—Flavorful Food Writing
Broccoli, like a tree with little leaves; it feels rough and bumpy on some parts, and smooth on other parts. When you break it, it goes crack. Not much flavor, green green color, with lots of dark green, and some light green too. I give it three and a half stars (out of five).
Adam Wood, age 10
“Letter To Radish”
Forsythe Middle
Workshop: A Writeable Feast—Flavorful Food Writing
Dear Radish,
I’ve never met you before but it was love at first sight. You definitely surprised me with your unexpected spice. You are as red as rose and as smooth as silky fabric. Your inside is wet and your outside is dry. I can’t wait to to encounter your crisp and crunchy again.
Eat You Soon,
Adam
*Answer to Beatrix’s riddle: A robot
*Answer to Rayaan’s riddle: Silence