The ELM

By Annie Harte

Daddy gave me a tulip
I tripped and fell
I cried
My knee was the flames at our campsite 
The firetrucks that whine when somebody needs help
I don’t like that color

By Morgan Davis

Everything can change in the blink of an eye
That's always been known
But has it really?
Everything can be blown away
Gone
Into the air
Blown into pieces that can’t be replaced