The invisible wind is wild and crazy like me.
When it blows, it tickles my skin,
The sun is lemon yellow,
it shines bright like my smile.
The gigantic puffy clouds float by slowly and quietly.
It is hard to sit here and write.
My friends are talking, laughing, and writing.
The old brown tree branches are moving in the breeze.
I love writing out here!
Poems fill my heart
like roses in a flowerbed.
I hope we do this next time,
when the weather is kind again.

By Graciella, 7th grade
[photo by Wendy*Darling via flickr]

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