[Vicki] Tell Me About Yourself When You Were 17 - Naomi Shihab Nye

We would lie down on the grass in the steamy dark, cypress trees rimming our kisses, their stoic, silent height. Was it bad luck to kiss on a grave? No one could have told us how much would disappear within a year. The best cat, run over by the one who loved him. Grandmother, and the lady who owned the horses. My favorite field. I would stroke your smooth Mexican skin and you would not talk to me, hardly ever, but you would meet me on the plot of the 1924 priest and close your eyes. I could feel the cloud passing over the moon without looking up and I would never find you in a telephone book for the rest of my life.

Tell Me About Yourself When You Were 17 - Naomi Shihab Nye

[Vicki]

[Jaslyn] The Wind begun to knead the Grass - Emily Dickinson

The Wind begun to knead the Grass

[first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass— As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain— A Hand full at the Sky— The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees— And started all abroad— The Dust did scoop itself like Hands— And throw away the Road— The Wagons—quickened on the Street— The Thunders gossiped low— The Lightning showed a Yellow Head— And then a livid Toe— The Birds put up the Bars to Nests— The Cattle flung to Barns— Then came one drop of Giant Rain— And then, as if the Hands That held the Dams—had parted hold— The Waters Wrecked the Sky— But overlooked my Father's House— Just Quartering a Tree— [second version] The Wind begun to rock the Grass With threatening Tunes and low— He threw a Menace at the Earth— A Menace at the Sky. The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees— And started all abroad The Dust did scoop itself like Hands And threw away the Road. The Wagons quickened on the Streets The Thunder hurried slow— The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak And then a livid Claw. The Birds put up the Bars to Nests— The Cattle fled to Barns— There came one drop of Giant Rain And then as if the Hands That held the Dams had parted hold The Waters Wrecked the Sky, But overlooked my Father's House— Just quartering a Tree—