Writing Catalog

Nyah Rain Palmer

Grade: 9

North Royalton High School

Instructor: Stacie Leatherman




this summer it was hot. the sky was sticky and the sun was hungry, unsatisfied. we were sat folding dandelions and ripping the grass from its roots; digging our fingernails in the dirt. it smelled like apple blossoms and it tasted like growing up.

my mother came with her shadow like a hawk overhead, guiding me into gentle
arms when my body drooped like a wilting flower. it was eighty-three degrees but i leaned into her warmth anyway, tucked my face into her chest and closed my eyes; i knew the way home without looking.

she carries me up the front steps - i focus on the rhythm of her footfalls - and lowers me onto the living room couch like she has a hundred times before. kisses me on the forehead, like she has a hundred times before.

i don't remember much else before i fell into sleep, but i remember that she did not move the flower crown from my head or clean the dirt from my hands, and i am grateful. i don't remember much, but i am grateful.

this summer i napped with grass stains on my knees, and when i woke i had no shadow. it smelled like morning dew and it tasted like the end of a season.

i don't remember much, but i remember listening to the sound of your voice and my mother's as i slept, and i remembered it still as i woke.

barefoot, i passed into death.

Poem for Feeling Too Much


Poem for Feeling Too Much

i am gaping i am cavernous i am full of light / i am an endless sky and a bottomless pit / i am sunrise and sunset the beginning and the end / i am ragged and raw as a new wound / live wire nerves and well oiled heart / i can feel you / i am sitting legs swinging on the moon and i can feel you / i am sitting knees touching on a park bench and i can feel you / can you feel me too?