Celebrate National Poetry Month with Student Poetry

Hand of Fog

By Kaylee White

The hand of fog snakes its way over the mountain crest.

It summits and dives downwards

to hug the valleys and peaks,

Then rests.

Worming it’s way into every crevice,

Through the glades, low over the frozen streams,

Extending its reach sideways.

First filling the deep gaps,

Then slowly, slowly creeping up the tallest ridge, 

Two majestic hills encased in morning mist, 


Then comes the blinding light of sunshine,

Rolling out from its cloud cover,

It coaxes the frost to drip and the fog to recoil.

Gently, gently, the hand retreats, 

First lifting it’s fingers out of the valleys and palm off the peaks. 

Out of the glades and the frozen streams,

Until it lies only in the basin between.

A moment more, and then it resigns,

As the sun glares stronger,

It disappears over the tree line.

No Good Quarantine 

By Makayla Marinace 

I am not one to lie (much)

But this really, really stinks

Being in the house so long

Is giving my neck some kinks

I know these things are trivial now

In a terrible time like this

But to all those who feel the same

Here’s to another thing, we won’t miss

Risk Assessment

By Faith Garrett

the animal 

– despite its lack of food,

its broken leg,

its need to mate –

sprints full-speed

into a ravine

it knows it won’t 

survive down there

(if it survives the fall),

but the mossy rocks

look quite nice,

don’t you think?

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