Park School Anthology 2020

ANTHOLOGY 2 02 0

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The 2019-2020 Edition of The Park School Anthology is Dedicated to Curt Miller In his thirty-one years at The Park School, Curt Miller has inspired generations of students to think creatively and to find their voices. Over the years, many of his students have penned poems and essays that have appeared in the pages of this very publication.

Mr. Miller began as Park’s Drama Director and, in subsequent years, taught in the Upper Division English and Social Studies Departments. In his various roles as teacher, advisor, and faculty advisor for Model UN, he has motivated students to dive deeply into topics and learn more about themselves and the world. He has also brought us the delight of his acting talents every Halloween with his one-man performance of “The Tell-Tale Heart.” Mr. Miller is the type of teacher that students and colleagues speak of with a smile, and we will long remember him for being a caring, compassionate, and dedicated educator. We thank Curt for his years of commitment and community involvement at Park and wish him a very happy retirement. He will be missed!

COV ER ARTWOR K

Faculty Editors: Sophie Steck, Nancy Popper & Danielle Makrauer Special Thanks to: Kate LaPine, Lyn Williams, Christian Porter & Carole Carter

Vikram Scherfke GRADE 7

Linoleum Block Print

Ka

Lyra Dvorin |

GRADE 4

Elsa Barton |

| Mixed Media Julian Fynn-Thompson |

GRADE 6

GRADE 7

| Mixed Media

| Pencil, Sharpie & Watercolor

Library Plop!

Boom!

Bump!

Ow! Be quiet!

Ok—crash!

Sorry!

I didn’t mean to!

Crash!

Leave.

NOW! Walking out.

Slowly.

Sadly.

I love the library.

Didn’t mean to do that.

Bam! Slam!

Oops.

Charlotte Sze |

A

M t d I a e d

GRADE 4

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He

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RK

fke E 7

rint

Kate Hamilton |

GRADE 5

| Color Pencil

Walker Sweeney |

GRADE 5

| Papier-mâchÊ

Jojo Danforth & Dante Avery |

GRADE 3

| Pine & Marker

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About The Park School Anthology Many whose writings and drawings appear here will be surprised to see themselves in print. Still others who have nothing in this anthology will be disappointed. Only a part of what I received could be included and I regret I had to exclude so much. To select short stories, poems, and drawings for an anthology spanning writers who range from ages three to fifteen is not easy. By the selections which appear here, I have tried to reach for both diversity and excellence.

John Shaw Founding Editor Park School Anthology 1966

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Courage (Excerpt) I used to think that courage was only the things that you saw in the movies like when people jump out of burning buildings or fight of a shark. But what I have learned this year is that courage is everywhere both large and small acts of courage happen every day and they are meaningful to someone. Courage is being able to dig deep down inside yourself and do something even when your scared.

Last summer I was volunteering at an animal shelter on Nantucket when I learned that the shelter was in desperate need of volunteers to help transport 14 rescue dogs from Hyannis to Nantucket on the slow ferry. I immediately knew I wanted to help and talked my dad into accompanying me even though he didn’t want to go. As the date for our departure grew closer I started to second guess my decision. All though I love helping animals in need the idea of the unknown causes anxiety for me. Negative “what ifs” started racing through my head like: what are the other volunteers going to be like? how old are they going be? how long is it going to take? are they really going to let an 11-year-old help or am I just along for the ride? All these questions wouldn’t be answered till the day of the transport. So despite all these worries, I went because my love of animals outweighed my fear.

And all the “what ifs” stayed “what ifs.” I got to meet a lot of really cool people all of which were in their 60s and 70s but all had a lot of energy and who shared the same passion for animals that I did. I had a great time caring for a puppy lab/pitbull mix with blue eyes and tiny brown paws who snuggled with me our whole two and a half-hour ferry back to Nantucket. And, in the end, I was so glad I went.

Grayson Dolins |

Cate Glass |

GRADE 6

GRADE 6

| Papier-mâché

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Rose Lindsley |

Hannah Crozier & Kate Gavin |

GRADE 1

GRADE 7

| Multi Media Collage

| Linoleum Block Print

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Liv

age

Athena Boyden |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

Jonathan Loo |

Livvy Avignon |

GRADE 6

GRADE 6

| Writing & Mixed Media

| Pen & Marker

Isla Bell |

rint

GRADE 2

| Cardboard & Glue

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Soul Luster, lantern, lamp It shines as bright as a single star in the midnight sky Dusk, dim, dull It lights your path, like a torch, in a cave, The dim light bounces right off the wall onto your face Flame, flare, flash A yellow fluorescent miniature bulb The color of an unripe orange Waiting ripen to the fullest Gleam, glow, gloom A small sunbeam passing an all orange prism A perfect autumn, with the leaves the color of an apricot And in that apricot is a seed, Anticipating its planting in a garden full of others

Zach Baumel |

GRADE 6

| Paper Collage Adanna Obi |

GRADE 3

| Food Collage

Singing on a hill, a sea nymph, It beautiful, and lovely, But it’s there to set a trap for you, It there to murder you And it’s there to torture you, But how?

Singing is its power, its beauty, and most of all, its weapon, It lures you from the water, and somehow, you just can’t leave Though it is loud, it is quite graceful, and fully on tune And every tear you shed, it becomes louder and louder But no matter what, it still becomes louder and louder, It’s a gorgeous voice, is so melodic and rich to your ear But still too strong for you to walk away A pretty pink flower floats past you, It is the most graceful thing in nature, Its beauty swirls around you, A never-ending top, made of soft petals, and lily pads A pale pink, or pastel pink, It varies in color, and in size, But all beauty remains the same, And wouldn’t you doubt that such a beautiful, graceful things roots are in the muddy pond water?

Fre

It becomes the nighttime and all dark, the moon is out, the stars are out too, But that’s not me, I am the color-changing cyclone of the skies, The purple and green Or the purple, pink, and yellow Whooshing through the skies.

The transforming lines of power, The wave of light, The dancing lights in space Soul.

Naia Yu |

GRADE 6

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Mia

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Akil Meadows | Mia Salcedo |

GRADE 5

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media Collage

| Acrylic & Sharpie

Jenny Jin | Kate Saltzman |

Freddy Dent |

GRADE 6

GRADE 7

GRADE 8

| Paint on Canvas

| Linoleum Block Print

| Oil Pastel & Cut Paper

E 6

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Beatrix Enzinger | The “Apple” Poem |

Nico Gonzalez |

GRADE 3

| Pencil Luca Gorman |

Theo Greene | GRADE 2

| Yarn

GRADE 5

GRADE 1

| Acrostic Poem

Em

| Digital Media Max Bendett |

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media Collage

Gra

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em

Squished Rice: It’s So warm in here.

Rice in the bag: Ya think? I’m stuffed in this small bag and it’s cramped and squishy. I’m so cold!!! Ughh!

Sardine: Bleh.

Chopsticks: Snore! Zzz! Huh? Mm. Zzz!!!

Sardine: Bleh.

Beans: Bounce! Squish! Ow! Hey! Stop It! Sardine: Squish. Bleh. Beughhh! Gulp!

Beans in the sardines stomach: Ugh! I’m covered in… Candy? Mmm! But still… I’m SQUISHED!!!

Anders Yu | Emily Fair |

GRADE 3

GRADE 4

| Mixed Media Collage

Eliza Roy |

Ethan Gordon |

GRADE 1

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

| Paper Collage

age

Jungle Green I don’t know why Jungle green is called Jungle green.

It doesn’t look like it would be in the jungle to me, but when I hear it’s name sometimes I just picture me lying on a jungle canopy with all the jungle animals with me And for some reason I don’t feel scared around them and I could just stay there That’s when I know why it’s called Jungle Green Because I believe baboons, binturongs, bongos, and bonobo are beside me.

Grayling Barzey |

GRADE 3

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Oliver Morgan |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

Cas

Where I’m From I am from stacks of color-filled beginner books, From “Toot! Toot! Here comes the station!” and heaping piles of Legos I am from a black, brick apartment building And steep, carpeted stairways I am from my Pre-K plant, Whose leaves stretched out, desperate for water, in its bright yellow pot I am from dozens of stuffed animals, from Sammy and Monkey From boxes and boxes of sports cards, piled on top of each other From Wyatt and Wellie, Mom and Dad. I am from home-cooked meals of duck a l’orange and slow-roasted salmon And cool ocean breezes on South Beach in Chatham And from the roars of Red Sox games From family trips to Spain, France, and beyond I am from stressful days of sports and long drives And from the marble countertops of my kitchen, where my cooking came alive I am from loud Christmas and Thanksgiving celebrations I am from Babcha and Jaju, And Mimi and D too.

I am from cheesy, milky boxed mac and cheese and juicy, ketchup packed hamburgers From fleeing Ukraine And from Yankee Stadium (I know) From making Christmas cookies with my Mom I am from those moments that shaped my life now and made me become me!

Lennon Talbot-Frangos |

PreK

| Marker & Crayon

Blake Dinwoodey |

GRADE 6

Annalisa Martinek |

GRADE 3

| Pine & Paint

Sop

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Casey Braman |

GRADE 3

| Mixed Media Collage

Zain Shelkh |

GRADE 8

| Graphite

The Star-Crossed Lovers’ Secret Wedding The hardened walls of the church stand, sunlight speckling the ancient stone, and shining on the two men within. One is dressed in brown, patched and rough, a crucifix around his neck, which he rubs as he contemplates what will soon occur. Beside him, a young man, dressed in all finery, fingers beating a staccato rhythm on the wall as he looks to the door in anticipation, emotion swelling in his eyes.

Suddenly, a woman enters, a cloak wrapped around her which falls away to reveal a gown, just as fine as the man’s, who now draws close as though hypnotized. They sway and talk as the friar bids them into the next room, resigned to take the plunge as he moves with calm efficiency. Before an altar they stand, alone in a space designed for a multitude, but they do not feel it. The soft tolling of the friar’s voice rings out, interspersed by notes from the man and woman, until, just like that, it is done.

Will Glick |

GRADE 8

aint

Sophie Kim |

GRADE 6

| Getty Challenge

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Lauren Kim |

GRADE 7

| Found Objects

Mikoto Matsuzaka |

GRADE 4

| Papier-mâché

Inspired by Haiku “Let Me Wear The Day”

by Sonia Sanchez Let me wear the day Whether good or bad Happy or sad Let me wear the day

Bod

I’ll take responsibility I’ll handle your problems No matter what You will be proud Let me wear the day Let me wear the day So when it reaches you The warmth spills Up, down, and all around Your heart surrounded by warmth So when it reaches you You will enjoy it Owen Fantuzzi |

Abby Greenhill |

GRADE 7

Annelise Feng |

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PreK

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media Collage

| Oil Pastel

George Sebelius |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

Dev

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My Soul Is A My soul is like a rock, ’Cause it is so tough.

I can get through sad times, and mad times, And times where I feel ashamed, and times when I feel embarrassed.

My soul is a bird, Longing to see the world.

Flying smoothly through the fresh air, Curious about what’s in front of me.

My soul is one of those crazy New England Days, Always changing emotions.

I’m Black, Bronze, Brown, then I’m Blue, I’m crying, then I’m laughing, then I’m smiling, then I’m scowling.

ché

age

Bodhi Beroukhim |

GRADE 7

| Mixed Media

I Must Confess I must confess

My soul is a volcano, Full of many thoughts, and ideas.

Waiting for it all to explode, Just like a confetti cannon, one second it’s full the other second it’s empty.

My soul is like the night sky, Full of stars and clouds, Looking different from the rest, Sometimes blending in, sometimes not.

I’ve left the front door locked

Leyla Somani |

GRADE 6

My brother wanted to get in Waiting in the twenty degree weather His hands getting numb with frostbite In the dark, peering in through the window Me waving through the window with a wide grin on my face I must confess I took all of the candy in the bowl on Halloween Being as greedy as a hungry hippo Making the other trick-or-treaters mad Disappointing them on their favorite night I must confess I ate the last brownies we were saving for our visitors Yum. They tasted so good, so delicious, I couldn’t help myself All the brownies are gone from their platter, into my stomach So no one else could eat them I must confess I went outside and drowned some ants in water It was so cruel as the water flooded their ant hill All of the ants running and trying to get to a safe place Splashed by a bucket full of water that ended their life Making them look like a bunch of floating dots Devan Kathiresan |

GRADE 6

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Keira Zhuo |

GRADE 8

| Graphite

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Elliott Huang |

GRADE 5

| Acrylic & Sharpie

Ale

Kinds of Collections (Excerpt) Everyone should know why collecting is such a great hobby. First, Avery Rea |

GRADE 7

you can collect many things. Second, anyone can have an adven-

| Twist Wire

ture by trying to look for things to collect. Last, you can have a lot Elliot Strand |

GRADE 6

| Oil Pastel & Cut Paper

of fun hearing about my own collection. I chose to collect because once I found a gem in my driveway and I thought it was really cool.

It was red, pink, and orange and it was carved into a dragon! I felt amazed and wanted more. A lot of these things are in this amazing book!

What to Collect If you don’t know what to collect, then you’re in luck because this chapter is all about things to collect. Here are some different types of nature you can collect: rocks, shells, bones, leaves, minerals, nuts, feathers, quills, seeds, and bugs. I think that the easiest nature to collect are leaves, rocks, bugs, nuts, and/or shells. The reason these things are easier to collect is that they are more common. If you want more of a challenge, then I would collect minerals and/ or seeds. These things are harder to collect because they are rare.

If you want an even bigger challenge, then I would collect quills, bones, gems, and/or feathers. These are even harder because they are rarest. Here are some miscellaneous things to collect: coins, playing cards, baseball cards, and/or football cards. Make sure you’re collecting the right thing for you.

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Nikitas Handrinos |

GRADE 3

11/19/2020 1:33:05 PM

Excerpts from a Modernized Romeo and Juliet (in the style of The Outsiders) The Beginning of the End: “Hey Greaser! Whadda’ you think you’re doing on this side of town?” an arrogant voice called out.

“Give it a rest, Soc. Unless you wanna fight, get lost, fancypants,” the Greaser said back, glancing at his friend behind him. It

was a fair fight, two Socs against two Greasers. They would take that fight any day.

“Are you insulting me?” the madras-wearing Soc snapped back, stepping towards the Greasers.

“Maybe, I am,” the Greaser retorted, now face-to-face with the Soc. They locked eyes, animosity filling the space between

them. Without any warning, the Greaser swung his fist at the Soc, connecting with his jaw with a loud crack. But before anything else could continue, a clear voice rang out, “Stop! Are you guys crazy? C’mon, nobody gotta fight today.” It was Benvolio, the level-headed, peacemaking Greaser, who was well-liked throughout most of town.

“You chicken, Benvolio? Come here, Greaser, I’ll show you where trash like you belong,” the fiery Tybalt said, eagerly

jumping out of the blue Mustang pulling up to the confrontation. The words had their intended effect on Benvolio, who too was now itching to fight. The brawl was brutal, with no boy having less than bruised bones or a ringing headache. But just when the fight appeared to escalate into something much more nasty, the sound of sirens pierced the air, scaring the birds out of the trees. All of the boys’ muscles twitched to run, but they knew it was of no use anymore. With a screech, the police car stopped, and out stepped the police chief himself, Escales, or as the Greasers liked to call him, the Prince. They had dubbed him that because of how all high and mighty he acted, but he was known for being a fair chief, and he had been pretty lenient when he had caught Socs and Greasers fighting before, but this looked to be the last straw for him.

“You boys listen up. I’ve been easy on y’all, but I ain’t gonna treat you like kids anymore. Y’all have been causing a distur-

bance in the neighborhood, and people ’round here are sick and tired of it. The next time I catch any of y’all fighting, you bet your life they’ll be arrested and sent to jail, “Escales said, an angry frown marring his face. With a resigned look on their faces, both the Socs and Greasers nodded and began to walk away, but not before sharing a look of pure hatred for one another.

Alex Min |

GRADE 8

Sharvil Bijumalla |

E 3

GRADE 8

| Clay

Jaxon Fantuzzi |

GRADE 5

| Papier-mâché & Clay

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I Know Another Quarantine Day I know another Quarantine day “Time to wake up” Get up super early at 7:30 am to join your Zoom call Open your computer and listen to your fingers tapping and tapping on your loud keyboard Check your email to get the link Finally, after click… click you are on the call “Hello everybody” I know another Quarantine day Staring and staring at your screen for a whole three hours feeling so nauseous Thinking when will I ever finish this assignment Listening to the loud leaf blowers outside Breathing in, stuffy air “Let’s go take a walk” “Don’t forget to put on your mask”

Reeves Deland |

GRADE 1

| Clay

I know another Quarantine day Looking at the ground as you walk by your whole town Not a person in sight “Creek...rumble rumble” Eyes turning to focus on what’s passing by It’s the train, looking so empty No one but one person sitting on a green seat with the paint chipping off I know another Quarantine day We get to the main part of town, nothing is open Looking at the signs saying “Out of business” or “Closed” in big print All the stress caving in on you Feeling like you’re going to explode “Let’s go back home…”

Thinking of something else to say but what is there to say?

Sop

Jonas Wilderman | Jules Lewis |

GRADE 6

GRADE 6

| Oil Pastel & Cut Paper

| Digital Media

I know another Quarantine day Getting back in that stuffy room Trying and trying to concentrate on what you have to do Trying and trying Again and again Get on the Zoom call before it’s late “Nooooo!” you hear Great, another distraction Why…oh why does this have to happen?

I know another Quarantine day

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Ella Harlev |

GRADE 5

11/19/2020 1:33:06 PM

Inspired by “Litany” by Billy Collins You are the educator and the student The spice and sugar You are the minutes of my time And the inspiration to this rhyme You are the al dente and the penne And the heavens However, you are not the pillow to my chair The leaves to my trees Or the sweet sunshine in the sky And you are certainly not a sunflower turning its head to the sun There is just no way you are the saving grace It is possible that you are the itch in my back I can never quite reach Maybe even the gloss to my lips But you are not even close to being A fresh-picked rose

Izzie McWilliams |

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media

And a quick look in the mirror will show That you are neither the princess and the pea Nor the bookmark to my book It might interest you to know Speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world That I am the princess and the pea I also happen to be the gentle summer breeze The fluffy pillow to rest your head And the best page from your book I am also the fresh-baked pie And the whipped cream on the strawberries But don’t worry, I am not the teacher and the student You are still the teacher and the student You will always be the teacher and the student Not to mention the spice and—somehow—the sugar Addie Creelman | Sophie Gates |

GRADE 1

GRADE 7

| Clay

Laila Miller |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

The Only Way to See the Summit is to Step Back

Amos Lawrence GRADE 8

Voice Recording

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Wil Alexa Kempinski |

GRADE 4

| Papier-mâché Felix Hentschel |

Clau Rothman |

GRADE 6

| Pencil, Sharpie & Watercolor

GRADE 5

| Papier-mâché

Sari Goldberg |

GRADE 5

| Digital Media

Honey, I Shrunk Albert Einstein Oh honey, I am deeply sorry but I shrunk Dr. Einstein.

Lin

I used the mega weapon and here he is.

Can you possibly get him back to life-size?

Is he going to be as smart with such a tiny brain?

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Wyatt Dinwoodey |

GRADE 4

11/19/2020 1:33:09 PM

dia

William Eielson |

GRADE 6

| Papier-mache, Paint & String

Max Rubinstein |

GRADE 8

| Ink

A New Quarantine Carol - Inspired by “Blackberry Picking” by Seamus Heaney Late December given heavy snow and wind For a full week the presents under the tree would grow At first just one bright box Among others red green and one small as a mouse You opened the first one and it shined like a car bumper Like thickened eggnog, winter’s blood was in it Leaving wrappers around the floor and lust for opening The big ones inked up and that hunger sent us out with exacto knives Scissors and pocket knives Where family members grabbed and Grandma’s cooking stained our shirts Round lingonberries, candles and serving plates We opened and inspected until the boxes were empty Until the plates were wiped clean With red ones on top, gold ribbons burned Like a bowl of tongues our mouths were salty with paper cuts our hands were aching like Christ We coveted the warm moment soon to be captured in a photobut when the Camera’s memory was filled we found the future A germ-filled quarantine glutting on our peace The dishes were stinking too, once off the table The turkey room temperature and its sweet flesh would turn sour I always felt like crying, it wasn’t fair That all the lovely memories smelt of rot Each year I hoped they would keep, knowing they would not Billy Rutledge-Canales | Linghui Liu |

GRADE 6

GRADE 7

Annabelle Curry |

GRADE 7

| Linoleum Block Print

| Yarn & Mixed Media

E 4

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11/19/2020 1:33:11 PM

Ione Hernandez |

GRADE 3

What Maine Brings Once I was in Maine with Rose, Cash, Cole, Mom, and Ella. Everyone but Cole was on the rocks near the water. No one would jump in. I said nervously, “I want someone to jump before me.” So my mom dived right in. Then I jumped in. Do you know that feeling when you jump in icy cold water and you can’t talk? I immediately got out. Then Cole jumped in.

“Come and I will teach you something,” begged Cole. So I jumped in and I started to shake. Then Cole exclaimed, “If you take a deep breath and calm your body down, you will feel less cold.” Cole started to swim like a dolphin “era, era, era.” Cole swam out and back. When he came back, Rose wanted to get in.

“Sometimes when I swim I feel like sharks are circling under my feet,” I told Cole.

“There is no reason to be afraid of sharks because it is too cold for them,” Cole responded. “Hey, look, there is a seal….”

We got out of the water and wrapped our hair, but mostly only the girls did. We wrapped our bodies too. We walked through the woods of pine and tall, light-green ferns and past the hammock. Then onto the rocky beach with pointy rocks which hurt our feet, and then up the “chicken steps.” (Ok, maybe they weren’t chicken steps, but they very much looked like chicken steps!) Next, into another pine forest with a hammock and up the steps to the porch. The aisle down the porch to the front door and finally into our bedroom. Door locked! Time to get out of my wet bathing suit.

No

Jav

Eason Gu |

GRADE 8

Cosette Chang |

| Clay James Eagle |

GRADE 2

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint Sydney Champagne |

GRADE 3

| Mixed Media Collage

Pond Hotel The pond is a hotel for swimming creatures check in is at the bay wet rooms decorated with seaweed bouquets on the room service menu you can find small fish and algae rock rolls fish come and go turtles play hide and seek all are welcome—except if you are a predator best of all you can find better fish friends.

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Nora Voldins |

GRADE 6

| Digital Media Emma Dunn |

GRADE 3

Trees In spring, tree branches will bend in the breeze.

In fall, leaves leap off the limbs of trees and land on long grass.

In winter, the whooshing wind will wind up and get wicked.

But in summer some light will sneak and show.

It will make long grass grow and do what it did before.

It grew and grew and now it grows.

John Henry Lenzen | Javier Moreno-Fry |

GRADE 1

| Acrostic Poem

GRADE 6

Jack Brennan |

GRADE 7

| Collage & Sharpie | Linoleum Block/Stencil Print

age

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11/19/2020 1:33:13 PM

Caroline Huang |

GRADE 8

| Digital Media

Tatum Glynn |

GRADE 5

| Digital Media

Violet Nason | Color Pencil

GRADE 3

Ge

Scarlett Rea & Sofia Moreno-Fry |

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GRADE 5

| Pine & Paint

Emilie Pratt |

GRADE 7

| Linoleum Block Print

Hannah Crozier |

GRADE 7

| Linoleum Block/Stencil Print

11/19/2020 1:33:14 PM

Eas

rint

Edward Boyden |

Georgia Isaac |

GRADE 7

GRADE 4

| Color Pencil

| Origami Cranes

Imitation Poem of “One Art” The art of losing is no disaster; so many things seem lacking of the stuff that to be abandoned isn’t a disaster.

Blunder something everyday. Accept the hidden horde of lost door keys, the many years of hours poorly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

And patience, look, your losing father, losing faster, losing more: places, and the names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost my mother’s precious watch. And look! My last, or The best of three beloved houses went. The Art of losing isn’t hard to master.

The emptiness is no disaster.

I lost two cities, three loved ones. And, vaster, Some dominions I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I sure miss them but it wasn’t a disaster.

Even losing you, The joking voice.

It’s clear that The art of losing is not to master, Although, once in a while, it may seem like a disaster.

Easton Boney |

PreK

| Wood

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Henry Furman |

GRADE 7

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A Wave’s Secret Down by the beach where the water flows stories of the sea crash against shore the waves carry on with secrets below where it is peaceful and calm where the coral reef flows the waves carry on like a road that never ends where boats flow north south east west where a soft sound of music flows down by the waves that’s where it goes the dark painted blue all around down down deep you reach space way up high you reach pluto light blue with a tiny pinch of green it’s a tornado it’s a waterfall crazy or peaceful it’s a nice place to go take a rest and go Elodie Masdea |

Ethan Heist |

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media Collage

Nic

GRADE 2

Theo Lawrence |

GRADE 3

| Mixed Media Collage

We Did Shabbat with Our Friends through an iPad We did Shabbat with our friends through an iPad. I remember smelling the scent of candles as I lit them.

I remember the feel of the mini blow torch in my hand.

I asked my dad if I could light the candles.

He said, “yes you can.”

We said the prayers together

over the wine and the bread.

At that moment I thought about all of the other families in the world doing Shabbat over an iPad. Not being able to be with their extended families.

But in the end,

The candle heat and light radiated over us

together.

23

Daniel Zoran |

b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 24

GRADE 4

| Mixed Media

Jacob Greene |

GRADE 7

11/19/2020 1:33:17 PM

An

Elliz Chara |

GRADE 5

| Acrylic & Sharpie

Ode to a Laptop

Nicole Hadar |

Oh laptop, oh laptop , You wonderful thing.

You go bleep, You go blop.

I use you a whole lot.

You glitch, you switch, I think I might call you Mitch!

You move to a different screen.

When I use you I feel like a queen.

You’re useful, You’re truthful.

I stare at you all day everyday, everyday.

Oh laptop oh laptop Oh please come and play?

GRADE 5

Gaby Guzman |

GRADE 4

E 7

Anthony Lee |

GRADE 8

| Pencil

b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 25

Noura Bahadori |

GRADE 2

| Mixed Media Collage

24 11/19/2020 1:33:18 PM

Mila Surnamer |

Henry Roy |

GRADE 2

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempra Paint

My

I Know A Perfect Summer Day I know a perfect summer day, The smell of fresh air in the warm summer breeze, “It’s the ice cream truck!” Kids screech like a car slamming its breaks, “Crraasssshhhh” a booming wave against the scratchy and raspy sand, A cold glass of sweet lemonade.

I know a perfect summer day, Muddy feet against the bouncy trampoline, Bright blooming flowers scattered everywhere, Cotton candy sunsets with a lemon drop sun, “Chirp, Chirp, Chirp” a baby bird high up in its nest.

I know a perfect summer day, Buttercups spring in showers, Feet sinking in puddles, Watermelon Juice dripping down faces, “Splaasssshhhh” into the ice cold pool.

I know a perfect summer day, The green grass brushing against my feet, “Crraaacckkk!” The bat hitting a wiffle ball scoring a home run, “We did it, we won. I can’t believe we won!”

Heart of warmth reflecting the weather.

25 b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 26

Kate Hamilton |

GRADE 5

Ruby Richmond |

GRADE 5

11/19/2020 1:33:19 PM

Jos

My Soul Poem My soul is my skates, Sharp, stinging, slaying Fearless, fluttering, free Untamed, yet kept pristinely clean For hockey and sports Thin, yet built for support Useful, and VERY important My soul is a still-warm, Homemade, Creampuff.

Super-scrumptious, Sweet Silent in the oven The door with rust in sheets Warm like a summer day Something that you should always crave A thick confection For time, and bonding Piping bags full of frosting Lumpy to the touch When eating, NEVER make a fuss

Myles Syken |

GRADE 5

| Digital Media

My soul is the summit of Empire Mountain Beautiful, blistering, bellowing Wind and cliffs, Ever scorning Signs and chair lifts, Lightly snowing Hard to get, and cloudy Unwavering like the rock of the mountain itself, Summit shrouded White snow and blue sky Steep chutes, cornesses high Wind and snow stinging my face As for knives, in the blistering, windy space My soul is a New England day Independent and rewinding Loving and exciting East coast, mix-matched Weird and color-splashed with pink, yellow, green and more Sunny like the crowded beach on the shore Stormy like the ocean, blue Harsh and crude I see people waving “hi,” People just walking by Precipitation, start and stop Wavy, and trees like mops Streets littered with shops

E 5

Josie Koulomzin |

GRADE 4

| Papier-mâché

b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 27

Chloe Jeppson |

GRADE 6

26 11/19/2020 1:33:19 PM

The Knight & the Dragon Dragon: “I’m sorry I burned you, that was hasty.

But you looked just too tasty, And you were intruding on my brunch, So it’s kind of your fault I had a black knight for lunch.”

Knight: “I’m sorry I tried to steal your hoard, I just wanted to impress me’ lord.

But now that I’m in your belly, Could you make it...somewhat less smelly?”

Anand Koulomzin |

GRADE 7

Aidan McWilliams |

| Linoleum Block / Stencil Print

Nik

GRADE 4

Pei

Grace Zhang |

GRADE 4

| Papier-mâché & Paint

27 b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 28

Hudson Gorman |

Vivi Gaudet |

GRADE 5

| Papier-mâché & Clay

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

Clara Young |

GRADE 5

| Acrylic & Sharpie

11/19/2020 1:33:21 PM

Joe

pie

Nikki Singh |

GRADE 5

Peiwen Chu |

GRADE 3

| Pencil & Markers

Lucas Belyea |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Tempera Paint

| Mixed Media Collage

Sunset Orange Drifting out into the ocean.

“I think I’ve got a big one,” says Grandpa.

You’re coming home from fishing.

And then you see it.

You witness it in all its glory.

The sun dipping down into the ocean.

Then it’s gone. Come on!

We should get home. It’s getting late.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll see it again.

Joe Davies |

GRADE 3

Jamesy Benenson |

GRADE 4

| Mixed Media

28 b9381_ParkSchool_2020Anthology_R3.indd 29

11/19/2020 1:33:22 PM

Trey Sutphin |

GRADE 7

| Mixed Media

Justin Lee |

GRADE 6

| Oil Pastel & Cut Paper

When Everything Came to Be Everything formed from nothing, No one knows what was before.

What spanned grows for infinity, Darker than pitch black, Littered with bright specks.

And thus, the story of the universe came to be.

Dill

From it came the Milky Way, And our solar system.

A spill of light in the forever darkness.

The widow’s bright spot Brought light to the galaxy.

Each leg orbiting around the spot, With one in particular Being rather special.

The Earth, Which is home to life as we know it, And the stories continued.

Stories that will go on until the end of time, Being added upon for eternity.

All coming from the instant That the black widows were unleashed.

Paul Jeon |

Kiran Joshi |

GRADE 5

| Food Collage Cam Miler |

GRADE 7

| Stencil Print

GRADE 7

The Value of the Slytherpuff

Ray

Mae Myers GRADE 8

Voice Recording

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11/19/2020 1:33:23 PM

Inspired by “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost In a wood, two yellow roads diverged, And both I could not travel.

Long one traveler stood there, sorry.

And I could look as far as I could To where the undergrowth bent down.

Then the other was having the fair, And the claim was perhaps better.

Grassy wanted wear, because There the passing that had worn them Though really it was about the same.

Black leaves, equally trodden With no steps in that morning.

Oh, I kept the ever-doubted day!

Yet knowing how the first way leads on to another way, Should I come back?

Somewhere, ages and ages shall sigh Hence, a wood be telling this: I diverged two roads, and I traveled by the one less took, And the difference has made all that.

Dillon Evans |

Eden Wilkinson |

GRADE 7

GRADE 7

| Papier-mâché Gigi Boney |

GRADE 2

| Sharpie & Crayon

rint

Raymond Qian |

GRADE 1

| Mixed Media Collage Max Kaufman |

GRADE 6

| Digital Media

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11/19/2020 1:33:24 PM

The Park School 171 Goddard Avenue Brookline, Massachusetts 02445

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11/19/2020 1:33:25 PM