JACKSON, Wyo. — Literary talent is blossoming in kids at local schools.
Fifteen students in Teton County from grades K through 12 were recently recognized in the statewide Young Authors Contest. To highlight the achievement, the student editors of Jackson Hole High School’s literary magazine Spark selected four entries celebrated by the contest to share with the wider community.
Ailyn Fouts, a student at Munger Mountain Elementary School, won in the statewide Kindergarten Poetry category. This is one of the five poems from her collection:
Bode Pelletier, also a student at Munger Mountain Elementary School, won in the statewide Fourth Grade Nonfiction category.
The Snake!!!!!
“Ssssssssss!” Said the snake
His rattle started rattling like crazy, and I just got more and more curious, not scared.
“Bode, get away from that thing this instant!” My dad exclaimed.
My mom started descending as fast as she could to save me. Once she came down, my dad started to run as fast as possible. It took him like 10-30 seconds to get down to me. He clinched me in the tightest hug ever, like a Boa Constrictor! He was so thankful I was alive. Then my mom came. She ran even faster than my dad, yet still, she got here after my dad. It took my mom about 5-20 seconds to get down to me.
Then, ‘ she hugged me like a Boa constrictor. In my mind I thought I was going to die of asphyxiation.
The headlines were flashing in my head,
“Child Suffocated By Mother’s hug”
Everyone was staring at us, confused. Then, everyone stared at the snake. It slithered through a crack in the rocks. “Dad? What was that?” I asked.
“A snake,” my dad said.
“Are they deadly?” I asked.
“Yes,” said my dad.
The day was wrapping up. My mom was done climbing and we were
packing up. I was preparing for a 5 hour drive without any electronics.
While we were in the car, my dad asked,
“So what did you learn today, bud?”
I responded,
“Always trust your elders.” This moment was so memorable that I even named the snake, Snaky. Once we got home, I was so thankful for how my dad saved my life.
Lena Estay, a student at Jackson Hole Middle School, was awarded an honorable mention in the statewide Eighth Grade Poetry category.
teeth
words hiss
spit like venom
hit on skin
burn
can i speak up?
or am i
just
a
girl?
i watch
when his
eyes are placed
where they don’t belong
watching
staring
stalking
am i an object?
or am i
just
a
girl?
i grow
too big
for the ceiling
until my face
is smashed against the glass
am i a boss?
or am i
just
a
girl?
i pray to the midnight moon
to protect me
because i walk home
and I’m forced to find comfort
in the shadow black
with keys interlaced between fingers
and knuckles poking like armor
am i safe?
or am i
just
a
girl?
speaking up is hard
when venom
and teeth
sink into porcelain skin
and faces are smashed
against glass
and eyes prey
on our bodies
because we
are
just
some
girls.
Parker McDowell, a student at Jackson Hole High School, was awarded an honorable mention in the statewide Tenth Grade Poetry category.
I Wonder
I wonder what it’s like to be a hero
with a long billowing red cape
a shining symbol of glory
with superpowers all your own
and the heart to put others before yourself
to be humanity’s symbol of peace idolized
on the scribbles of children’s wearying math homework
drawn in pure admiration of you
I wonder what it’s like to be famous
an actor with the beauty of a siren
covered in the finest most exquisite silks
walking down the famed and praised red carpet
to be plastered on teenagers’ hopeful walls
who fall asleep wishing wishing wishing
to be you someday
I wonder what it’s like to be a politician
faced with two thorny paths
forced to sprint radically down one
or be stuck frozen in place
frantically moving like a statue with no grace
to be the one who stands on a burning throne
before the pleading masses
who will raise guns and flames
while Yelling enraged
in innocent city streets
or throw a wild party cheering
at the footage of your body neatly placed in a black box
pale breathless and asleep
I wonder what it’s like to stand on the bloodred iron cliff
amongst car honks and littered streets
gazing, eyes wide at its factual scenery
of memories so scalding next to flickers of dopamine
pasts definitive points on an icy graph
with ridges of immaculate highs
and abysses of Tartarus lows
to have your final string
of your solemn hearted harp song
snap with your sanity
and your feet lift of the ground
and you collapse into an even darker abyss
as your empty body splats on the trash ridden ground
Oh I wonder
I wonder
I wonder
I wonder
Congratulations, young writers!
