Student Publishing Program ::

Fatima A.

Vacation

I wake up when the sun is at its highest point.

No work to do but relax.

I walk barefoot on the spiky green grass,

bees hover around my bare legs.

A butterfly perches on my sunscreen coated arm.

The low branch of a tree brushes my head softly.

A few emerald leaves rustle in my wake.

I leave wet footprints on the warm, rough cement

as I make my way to the swimming pool.

I put on my sneakers

and race against the wind on my bike.

The hot sun heats my dark hair.

My sweat dried off by the cool afternoon breeze.

My clammy hands grip the handlebars

and my legs pedal to the best of their ability.

I ride towards the setting sun.

I sit on the porch at home

and toss off my helmet and it clatters on the wood.

While slurping my dripping strawberry popsicle,

I watch my little siblings draw chalk on the driveway.

My parents take a stroll near the house,

and my brother tells me funny stories.

I look up at the faint pink blue sky

and smile at this peaceful tranquility.

It is summer.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]