by Mallory, 9
Saratoga Independent School, Saratoga Springs, New York


Poems hide in your shoes
Poems creep around the corners
of your dad's old newspapers
Poems can be anything
anything at all
They can be the rusty nail
on your blue locker
or how you feel right after
your soccer team
won the championship
Poems can hide in the screen
of your video games
They jump into your backpack
and come with you to school.
Poems are like the beginning
of a new day.
You can't see a poem
unless you feel it.

Written in Response to “Valentine for Ernest Mann” by Naomi Shihab Nye