In my tree,
I grew up
with lots of other leaves.
I loved hearing
the whistle of the birds
and chatter of the squirrels.
Although when the other leaves
it meant growing up.
I waited every fall
until one fall it happened.
I landed next to my friend,
and I floated with her
the rest of my life.
By Josephine, 4th grade
[photo by Jack Hindmarsh via flickr]
I was born in your yard. I am a tiny thing.
Your grass is so green; it’s all I have seen
for now. I am hanging, thinking of what
I’ve done to deserve this. Birds chirping
and happy children playing. I am growing
old. I feel that oh-so-wobbly feeling. I FALL!
Luckily, I am still alive. Now, you are reading
at my trunk. “I’m right here!” I call out
impatiently. Finally, you see me. You bring me
into your house, set me on your window sill.
After a few days with no water, I’m dead by drought.
I fought and fought but my luck was out.
By Tinsley, 3rd grade
[photo by P. J. McAddie via flickr]
I am in a tree.
I see kids.
Birds fly above me.
I fall down and land on an ant.
I hear a train from far away.
A girl picks me up,
then she throws me on the ground.
The people step on me a lot of times.
I am the leaf.
by Jasmine, 1st Grade
[photo by smallchih via flickr]