I lift the rock to my shoulder Then raise it above my head — I will not bend — Lock my knees and set my jaw Fill the cracks in my heart with magma — I will not break — Whisper nothings to the abyss And shake the lion from his slumber — I will not fail — No. I shift the rock from my shoulders,
Oh to be that great wolf Who swallows up the gods At the end of the time, Not a periwinkle slipper hero Bowed by an indigo world.
When she asks him how he feels, He stumbles on the words, Not because he doesn’t feel. Because there is no Word in human Language that can answer her, As if naming it will change it. Because words miss its meaning, A string vibrating to find the note, A search light in the distance That cannot touch the darkness. Like
Frost said Good fences make Good neighbors. Do bad fences make Bad neighbors? Do we exist Only if boundaries Separate us? Do no fences mean No neighbors At all?
“Boy? Boy?” my cousin Floyd Lee screamed. “Boys play with toys. I’m Sammy. I play with your mammy.” My little brother Coby swung with all his weight, which was considerable. Floyd Lee’s mouth clomped shut, and he fluttered backwards, landed on his butt. Coby didn’t say nothing, only jumped at Floyd Lee, but Floyd clawed himself up and took off.
We struck a match that lit a wick A flame that we consumed in a moment stolen from forever But now we are just shadows dancing on the cave wall You and I
The first time I took flight Superman had just single bounded Black and white across the screen of A tiny TV topped with rabbit ears so Tying a towel around my neck, I Ran across the living room Winding swishing the cape behind, Leapt into the air and Hung there Suspended mid-air for an eon before Landing on the mattress
A man I knew died today. He had driven himself to hospital Sweating and shaking From heart failure, The way some diabetics do. The attack was just a symptom. Too much of his liver had died, His body buoyed with toxins. One by one His organs faltered. He lasted long enough For the family to gather, To make their apologies
Thirty miles from the white sandy beaches of the Gulf of Mexico, the Florida panhandle became a dense forest of straggly pines. The two-lane highway that Coby had taken south from Dothan slithered through the rough underbrush, far away from the hotels and tourist traps on the coast. An occasional car flickered in the darkness then passed Coby’s truck, a
The committee for the NBA for Young People's Literature has released is short list: Kate DiCamillo, Raymie Nightingale John Lewis, Andrew Aydin & Nate Powell, March: Book Three Grace Lin, When the Sea Turned to Silver Jason Reynolds, Ghost Nicola Yoon, The Sun Is Also a Star In addition, YA/children's author Jacqueline Woodson made the shortlist for the general award