Untitled Class Poem (each student selected a snippet from their writing from their observations writing outside) The sound of a bird chirping, chirping a beautiful song trees of green and skies of blue with white puffy clouds so softly -drip -drip a whistle burns my ears- that's all I hear the smell of fresh dirt that just came out of the ground The smells of dirty old water the outdoors the air smells so fresh and crisp in the fall I hear the air and the day is hot the air vent roaring like an angry tiger feeling like a newborn baby about to be picked up by his mother because they feel close to each other a black widow, about the size of a new pencil eraser without its legs it is almost like a knife the grass is prickling my legs like a thousands needles.
Inspired from - How to Pick a Rock, by Byrd Baylor It smells like bugs have been on it. It feels like a bumpy rock. Its color is brown and silver. Its name would be Rocksy. She makes me smile. She makes me laugh. My rock, covered with red and brown dirt looking like it has tiny rocks inside it white and shaped like a square with sharp ends my rock is rough If you put it in the grass, it hides as if you have pulled a blanket over your head it's hot. It's warm. How do I describe this? it smells like water, dirty water smooth and hard, shaped like a car it is copper-brown, with a little silver-gray, and a bit of gold shaped like a heart |