Katie Jeffers, age 14

California

I wrote this poem because I didn’t want to do my biology.

Night, Day, Evening

Last night
I swept my tears into a bottle
and put it under my pillow –
seeds for new dreams.
In the morning,
they grew into an apple tree
so I sliced the apples up
and had them for breakfast
on a big ceramic plate.

That day,
I talked so much
that I had to dig deep
into my talking box
and so I said so many things
I shouldn’t have.
So I closed my eyes and prayed
that a vine of pumpkins
would grow out of my mouth
and into my ears
so I couldn’t speak anymore,
and just in case I did,
I wouldn’t hear the things
people whisper.

In the evening,
I went out to the fields
but didn’t pick any flowers.
They were all chewed up,
a caterpillar’s breakfast
like holes burnt
from tiny little embers –
a hair trim of the sun.