Skip to Main Content

Service AlertsSouth Four Mile Run Drive Complete Street Project: The South Four Mile Run Drive Project is advancing to begin work on the north side of the intersection with Shirlington Rd. Work will begin the week of October 28 and will last for 4-6 weeks. The west bound bus stop will be closed. Customers can board ART service (Route 75) at the next nearest bus stop. View all ART Alerts

Moving Words 2016 Student Poems

2016 Winning Student Poems

NICOLA BEAUMONT, Third Grade, Taylor Elementary School
MARGOT WYMAN, Second Grade, Arlington Traditional School
ANABELLE FERREE, Kindergarten, Patrick Henry Elementary School
ESMÉ FARLEY, Fifth Grade, Taylor Elementary School
BRONWEN KUBIAK, Quinto Grado, Claremont Immersion School/ Escuela de Inmersión
SCOTTEN MADERAL, Fifth Grade, Drew Model School
LUCY RISSMEYER, Ninth Grade, Wakefield High School
JOANA AGBOKA, Seventh Grade, Kenmore Middle School
LELLE SYMANSKI, Eighth Grade, Kenmore Middle School
LEAH KARUSH, Seventh Grade, Swanson Middle School

2016 Honorable Mention Student Poems

SIERRA PLOWMAN, Third Grade, Oakridge Elementary School
NATHAN SPANGLER, Third Grade, Abingdon Elementary School
SADIE WALLANDER, Fourth Grade, Tuckahoe Elementary School
MADELEINE MARTIN, Fifth Grade/ Quinto Grado, Claremont Immersion School/Escuela de Inmersión
BERIL BALIK, Sixth Grade, Swanson Middle School
THOMAS ODLUM, Eleventh Grade, Washington-Lee High School

The Plane of Writing

The wings are poems,
the body a pen,
and the seats inside
are stories that never end.
Everywhere you look,
the pilots and attendants are books.
The Plane of Writing flies to and fro,
spreading stories round the world.

NICOLA BEAUMONT
Third Grade, Taylor Elementary School

The Sky

I dreamed
I was the sky
Above paradise
Gazing down on a hillside
Calmly

MARGOT WYMAN
Second Grade, Arlington Traditional School

Be Happy The Way You Are

If I was like you
And not like me
That would be strange
And so would we

ANABELLE FERREE
Kindergarten, Patrick Henry Elementary School

Art Supplies

In this closet, by the door, paints and crayons clutter everywhere.
A rough yank sends a paint jar splattering to the floor.

The art teacher sighs as she pulls down rags.
An hour passes, her hands stained the color of the sea on a warm
Day with calm waters,
in this closet, by the door.

ESMÉ FARLEY
Fifth Grade, Taylor Elementary School

El Tigre

Naranja igual que la puesta del sol
Negro como la medianoche
Garras como cuchillas de afeitar
Preciosa como el diamante
Piel tan suave como una nube
Pero peligroso como el fuego
Tan brillante como el sol
Pero tan oscuro como la noche
Tan feroz como el lobo, el tigre

BRONWEN KUBIAK
Quinto Grado, Claremont Immersion School/ Escuela de Inmersión

Chipmunk

The tiny giant bursts through the forest,
pouches full of food,
fur scented with a sweet forest aroma.
He scavenges the leafy floor for a meaty little treat
while predators stalk from high.
Discovering a snack,
he dashes for his burrow, stores it in his keep.
He must stock up before winter’s chill arrives.
Later he will nest in his burrow
eating brown-capped meals.

SCOTTEN MADERAL
Fifth Grade, Drew Model School

Big electric cat

Lives in the city, eats rats
Trapeze artist on telephone wires
Eyes as large, bright as street lamps
Neon whiskers
Jelly bean toes, claws of broken glass
Tail a radio antenna
Big electric cat

LUCY RISSMEYER
Ninth Grade, Wakefield High School

 

 

I am from French fries
From nobody’s perfect
I am from church of God
I am from family reunions
With mom and auntie dancing
From Maya who works hard as a secretary
 and Christmas presents at 6 in the morning
I am from dancing on stage
and traveling to France
Looking at the Eiffel Tower.

JOANA AGBOKA
Seventh Grade, Kenmore Middle School

Tranquility

(Inspired by the painting Monet’s Garden, 1975, by Gene Davis)

Soft waves of lilac velvet
Periwinkle clouds lie where I doze
Silken sheer curtains let in little moon light
Time to return to the garden

LELLE SYMANSKI
Eighth Grade, Kenmore Middle School

Candidates

They begin politely, fake respect
handshakes, smiles.
Then the change begins, almost unnoticeably,
the ever so slight jabs,
the cruelness in their eyes.
The madness that blows in, their calloused words flow freely.
And all for what?
A position in congress? The title of president?
And we have to live through it all
because we are American.

LEAH KARUSH
Seventh Grade, Swanson Middle School

 


2016 Honorable Mention Student Poems

 

The man I call my dad makes me very proud.
On days when I feel sad, he makes me laugh out loud.
Sometimes he has to go away to work with the Army and train.
But I can’t wait ‘til we play soccer or tag again – even in the rain.
When people meet my dad, the special thing they see,
is that he is a person who is glad, to fight to keep our country free.
I like it when he asks me about school, and he quizzes me about math.
I think my dad is super cool. He leads me on the right path.
I love my daddy’s imagination. He tells me stories of days gone by.
Together we can always have so much fun. I’m glad to call him mine.

SIERRA PLOWMAN
Third Grade, Oakridge Elementary School

A Song

The song is composed
The song is written
The song is played
The song is heard
The song is loved
The song is forgotten

NATHAN SPANGLER
Third Grade, Abingdon Elementary School

What is a Dream?

Dreams, like Spring and Summer
Always come and go
But who are they? And what are their features?
The truth is, nobody knows.
Perhaps they look like a wisp of cotton,
Or maybe a sunshine ray
Maybe they act like a zephyr breeze,
I hope we’ll find out someday.

SADIE WALLANDER
Fourth Grade, Tuckahoe Elementary School

Agosto

La tormenta
en agosto,
hizo una gran iluminación
que afectó al trigo
y lo hizo crecer
los dulces trigos con grandes recuerdos.

MADELEINE MARTIN
Fifth Grade/ Quinto Grado, Claremont Immersion School/Escuela de Inmersión

Once

Once I fell down,
Once I wrote a song,
Once I liked someone,
Once it broke my heart,
Then I learned,
I swam until the end.

BERIL BALIK
Sixth Grade, Swanson Middle School

The Woodworker

A small cottage in the midst of a vast forest,
A man, hands raw and calloused, sits at his desk,
Varieties of wood surround him, natural and grainy,
The smell of sap and pine needles rises into the air,
This is his life, his routine, what he lives and breathes for,
Dust and bark fly up into the air resembling a powdery snow,
The woodworker plays, like an overjoyed child on Christmas morning,
So many combinations, so many possibilities,
The creation as magnificent as the creator,
This is all he needs, all he wants

THOMAS ODLUM
Eleventh Grade, Washington-Lee High School