By Allison Stein, Age 13, Michigan

I will walk to my grandparents’ house
Just to be by them awhile;
I will walk to my grandparents’ house
To see my grandparents smile.

By Connor Fulton, Age 15, Utah

It was July 9, 2011. As I stepped out of the car, I could feel the warm Las Vegas heat beating down on my face, and the not-so-fresh air fill my lungs.

By Kaitlyn M. Toy, Contributing Writer

Huge, Dark
Expanding, waiting, emerging

By Allison Stein, Age 13, Michigan

I will walk to my grandparents’ house
Just to be by them awhile;
I will walk to my grandparents’ house
To see my grandparents smile.

By Daniela Ochela, Age 15, Florida

A wine glass with a thin body can’t hold bricks—
I’ve been carrying a city on my shoulders,
my spine is the New York subway rail
it was meant to hold a train, not another universe.

Caitlin Casady, Amazing young activist, volunteer, and writer
By Kasey Dallman, AKOM Writer