Poetry, Grades 7 – 9: Second Place
Creatures of the Night— Sawyer Michaelson
Out come the creatures of the night.
Cool autumn evenings bring certain gloominess into the air, with the men in their trench coats and bowler hats walking on by, hoping to stay out of the depressing rain and sadness. Buses screech out of the stations like no one wants to be there, and taxis honk away, in a rush, like they need to be somewhere. Cups of change jingle in the hands of people without a home, hoping for the miracle of getting a job and becoming a businessperson, to leave the cold winter nights on the sidewalk for good. Doors lock on stores and restaurants, as the workers rush home to relax and watch a bit of television, before drifting off into the night. Leaves rustle under the feet of many, trying to leave the deep dark caves of the city night. Children are kissed good night don’t let the bedbugs bite in their beds at home, and go into their dreams. Out come the creatures of the night, the rain and regret, the cold shivery memories, which you wish you had once forgotten.