WDS Poetry
IF A TREE WAS A HUMAN
by Amelia Gordon
March 12, 2026
If a tree was a person, it would be a scratchy human. It would walk as if its two legs weren’t enough. It’s skin would be as if you tripped on gravel and scraped your knee. The tree who is now a human would be wise, as if it knew things no one else did. Its feet would talk back to it, as if it was unsure of where to go. It would be always in fear of bugs that would never come. Never talk more than needed. It always knew what would come, never had a wrong thought.
It would be an intelligent, thoughtful, insightful, honest tree for it would never tell a lie. Not once. The tree would have hair, no. It would be a bird's nest of hair. Never washed, never touched, it simply existed like a blanket to cover its head. The blanket that was never touched, washed or even brushed. it would be a good thing really, if a tree was a human
13 Ways to Die
by Lang Cameron
March 12, 2026
To pass away in your rest,A forever dream. To never wake.
Joining the great flame. Merging into the sparkles. Never to stop dancing,Just burning and burning.
Red cap and white dots.It’s probably poisonous,
And I can’t breathe. Choking, unable to breathe. Everything fading away, Growing darker. Trying to go somewhere. Fallen where none go.
The train tracks gleaming with a light at the end of a tunnel.
Watching your digits turn to ice.Your mind freezing solid.Everything growing colder. And then quiet.
To not have enough,To starve,Your insides dying,A machine out of fuel.Taking a swim, then dragged away by a hidden current,And thrown beneath the waves,Never to be seen again.Destroyed by a fluffy apex predator. A bear is not to be provoked.Maybe you shouldn’t have used a cub as a pillow.Dying of boredom.An assignment is too hard. An annoying job, Making you sit.
Embarrassed to death,A fool in front of everyone, An idiot in the eye of the beholder.
You made an enemy, More cunning than you, And then you get stabbed in your back,With a long thin blade. On a hike to someplace fun.
Along a cliff, How ominous…And then you sneeze,
And then your foot slips.
And then you fall,
And then… Splat!
13 Ways I Love Winter
by Cyrus Walsh
March 12, 2026
I love her spots, they are like a work of art, not very clean, but a warm feeling.
I love how she is caring, like the warm hug of a mother.
When she licks me, it feels like I am sailing the seven seas, like many great pirates once did.
I love her breath, it reminds me of high quality fish, from only the greatest of markets.
I love when she starts to run, like she is about to start a race, her face becomes serious, almost tense.
I love how when she is confused she tilts her head, like she is trying to analyze something, like a computer. Almost in a smart way.
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I love her ears, they look like crispy tortilla chips. I almost want to eat them sometimes.
I love how she smells.
She smells like a tortilla and fresh baked bread.
I love her nose, shaped like a heart. Like she is sending a love letter to me without even speaking.
I love her eyes, deep and profound. Memorable and keen. Also goofy.
Her fur, slick and smooth. Comforting and soft.
Her skin, warm, loving, caring, protective.
Her personality. Funny, kind, loving, protective.
All those things make my beautiful dog winter.
What My House Would Be If It Was A Person
by Solomon CSW
March 12, 2026
My house would be a player
a Soccer player,
and he would play like me.
If he played for a team it would be my team.
He would score…and score…and score.
If he played he would have really played.
driving down the wing.
Taking the corners like no other.
He would bend it like Beckham,
curve it like Cristiano,
ping it like Pirlo,
and zing it like Zlatan.
He would
Tackle with grace,
and attack with pace.
If they were losing,
no more.
Headers to power shots
he would not disappoint.
Squirrels in the night
by Lucy Chin-Tanner
March 12, 2026
Loud as a chough. Thumping, bumping, galumping. A ruckus in my room. A loud creature waking in the night.
Through the vents around the house making its way through the maze. Twisting turning bumping the walls, a crazed cacophony all day.
Chittering chattering skittering skattering all throughout the night. Do you plan to stay all winter, when will you leave my house? You belong in the trees. You are not a mouse.
Colors of the vowels
by Kaja Senanayake
"A burns crimson, fierce, a blazing flame,
The rose’s blush, the dawn’s first fiery kiss.
Its passion calls, a fire that none can tame,
A world alight in scarlet’s searing bliss.
E shines golden, bright as midday’s sun,
The gilded wheat fields waving in the breeze.
It whispers warmth when morning has begun,
A gentle hum among the amber trees.
I gleams silver, sharp as moonlit frost,
A mirrored lake beneath the starry glow.
Its gleaming edge recalls the paths once crossed,
A world of dreams where hidden secrets flow.
O rings of cobalt, vast as twilight skies,
A tranquil depth where endless oceans lie.
It's quiet calm, where stillness softly cries,
A boundless orb of azure's watchful eye.
U breathes emerald, life in verdant streams,
The forest’s heart, the earth’s eternal green.
It sings of roots, of growth, of nature’s dreams,
A vital pulse within the unseen scene."
A Stranded Astronaut
by Sunny Guy
"A black abyss
of nothingness
Scattered stars
light a path to mars
I look down at my hometown
The sandy beach
the children’s shrieks
But all of that’s so far away
so here I am forced to stay
In this spooky, scary, lonely, wary
dark and crazy place
like a forgotten face."
To Fly Away
by Zelde Whiteley
"One flap, two flap, he jumps and falls
Three flap, four flap, he spreads his wings and soars
His sister follows, but doesn’t flap. Her body broken, her head lolls
His eyes scour the ground below
Settling on the many great brown boar
As he takes in this new point of view
The clouds swirl above on a beautiful blue
​
The world that had once seemed so new
Has lost its golden hue
A heavy heart weighs him down
One flap, two flap, he flys away
Desperate to escape the day
His soft yellow feathers turn to brown
His fight for peace
Will never cease
His sisters flight
Haunts his every night"
Water Drops
by Zelde Whiteley
"Water.
Crystal clear; A beautiful shimmering lake
​
Water.
For me to drink.
For you too.
​
Water.
A great big dark abyss.
Filled with the unknown
Ready, waiting to pull us down.
​
Water.
Cascading down the rocks.
Its loud roar fills my ears
And the rainbow of light
Reflecting off the fall
Fills my eyes with Beauty
​
Water.
“Pool time!”
“Let's go play!!"
A thing of fun.
Of joy.
​
Water.
It falls from the sky.
Blessing the ground
With each drop.
​​
Water.
A place of bonding,
For father and son.
A place to find food
For all the family.
​Water.
Something of rarity.
When it falls,
The dry ground drinks.
Relief flooding through it
Water.
A thing brought upon
By sadness.
Full of shame.
​
Water.
Cold.
Hard.
Frozen.
I glide across it,
Like a bird in flight.
Water.
My home.
My fellow schoolmates
Swirl and dive with me.
We are one,
In our great blue home.
Water.
Fresh.
Cold.
Frozen.
White footprints scatter the ground.
Water.
The first thing I knew,
Then I grew arms & legs.
Now I hop from pond to pond.
Soon, water is the first thing my young will know."
13 Ways Of Looking At The Night
by Amy Nowitzki
"I
Darkness surrounds,
covering your eyes.
Stumbling along like
a doe in headlights.
II
Through a sea of black,
there is light,
peeking through the blinds.
III
A time of loneliness,
where only the moon
will speak with you.
IV
Peace offers its hand.
Bringing safety and stillness, comfort and warmth.
V
Monsters. Everywhere.
Holding your eyelids open,
fueling your imagination.
Sleep, never arriving.
VI
Slumber captures your mind,
peaceful, steady sleep you receive every night.
VII
As you drift away,
a land of horrors you find.
You cannot escape, as if you were a bird, locked up in a cage.
​
VIII
Candy and sweets, bless you in your sleep.
All sweet dreams,
while you rest in your warm bed.
IX
A time for celebration, for good food and drinks.
Time to be with friends, flashing lights all around.
X
Just peace.
Mostly, at least.
After a long day,
in bed you lay.
XI
You lie awake,
awaiting sleep.
But sleep will not come.
This happens every night, you lay, wondering, when will it stop?
XII
You don’t want to rest!
You’d rather play all night long.
But these giants will not let you, forcing you into sleep.
XIII
One day, you’ll sleep forever.
Usually, and hopefully,
you shall enter this peacefully.
And shall not be awakened, but dug into the earth."
Untitled
by Clara Rodriguez-Tye
​
"a murder of crows all perched in a tree,
a manifestation of guilt.
they migrate once more when the
seasons change, and a new home to leave once more "
Tiny
by Jackson Lowe
"Why is tiny big?
Tiny and big are rivals
Though tiny and big work
Together
Think about it
Big is
Tiny
And tiny is
Big
Big has
3 letters and
1 Syllable
Tiny has
4 letters and
2 syllables
Let's think about it like trees
The big tree is as big as
A pine tree
And the tiny tree is as tiny
As a bonsai tree
Eventually the big tree will die and become
tiny
And the tiny tree will be
big
Now the cycle repeats
Big to tiny
Tiny to big"