A night of poetry in Wallace

WALLACE — The students in Kelton Enich’s creative writing class at Kellogg High School took their show on the road last week when they held a poetry reading at Sol & Serre.

Once again the show superseded expectations, and it all happened because of a vision Enich had the first time she walked into the new flower shop in Wallace.

“When I first walked into Sarah Murphy’s new flower shop, Sol & Serre, a couple months ago, I knew we had to do a poetry reading there,” Enich said. “She has done such an amazing job with the design of the space and the light and the acoustics were perfect for a small intimate poetry reading. I really want to have these poetry readings be more a part of the community and also bring awareness to local businesses to support our local industries.”

Fifteen students went through the arduous process of writing, editing and re-editing before the event could happen.

Watching the students grow as writers — as well as confident human beings — is part of what makes these reading events so important and memorable for Enich.

“My favorite part about hosting these poetry readings is watching my students’ gain confidence in themselves,” Enich said. “Most of them start creative writing classes at the beginning of the year with the idea they have no talent when it comes to writing, but the second they walk off that stage amid a round of applause, everything changes for them. They are so proud of themselves and parents who attend seem really proud as well. I love exposing people to the creativity and cathartic experience of poetry.”

The event even boasted some new readers as sophomore Jess Hoaglan and junior Tad Walchly both read to the audience for the first time.

The crowd really got into the event and helped the classes raise money toward their special event fund that allows off-campus readings like these to be possible.

The night was one to remember and both Enich and her students were thankful for the opportunity and hope to return to Sol & Serre for another reading.

“I hope to do it again, Sarah was so gracious in letting us use her space,” Enich said. “Overall, the evening felt very fresh and sophisticated, and I heard a lot of positive feedback from students and parents about holding a community event off campus.”

Enich has already begun laying the groundwork for their next event, which will combine the wordsmithery of her creative writing students with the imagination of local elementary students and the skill of KHS’s ceramic artists.

“We have two more poetry readings planned before the end of the year,” Enich said. “The first will be some time in April. We are collaborating with Rachael Krusemark and the art department at KHS. Rachael asked teachers at Pinehurst and Canyon to have elementary students draw pictures of monsters. Her art students created ceramic representations of those monsters and my creative writing students will write poems about them as well. It will be a combined art show and poetry reading that showcases creations from students across the district.”

Here are two of the poems composed and read by members of Enich’s creative writing class:

Vesuvius

By Jaxon Card, Sophomore

We overlook clouds and mountains

from a perch above Pompeii,

an altitude of icy winds

shifting over molten gray.

Roman cities shake and rumble,

panicking the population,

sunny smoke obscures bright skies,

they scramble in evacuation.

Sparking, dripping,

liquid time bombs,

faucets pouring

droplet flames.

Drip, drip,

hot erosion,

scents of ashes

drenched in rain.

They pour out of uptown villas,

every person for themselves,

stinging eyes and limping paces,

dishes falling off the shelves.

From the cone of seeping magma,

vicious, viscous vitriol,

bubbling from tectonic rims

like a mug of alcohol.

Rolling rivers of torn up togas,

pops of magma each a shout,

snowfall smolders above the noise

’til ash and pumice drowns it out.

Ode to Stars

By Jess Hoaglan, Sophomore

Forgive the falling stars

that could not grant a wish.

Like the clumsy man

cradling promises,

doing his best to carry just one more,

but he tripped.

Tiny lighthouses reaching out

their dimming beams of hope,

do not blame them for your cowardness,

you were foolish to get lost at sea.

They sway top-heavy,

as tipping buckets dribbling

other’s dreams into the emptiness

of space

until they can no longer hold.

Like tears tumbling down cheeks,

they plunge to Earth,

breaking the hollowness of night

and sparking life into the hearts

of the faithless.

They burn themselves

to the point of explosions,

just to create black holes of

destructive karma

made by broken promises.

Each light in the galaxy,

a ticking time bomb

of chemistry

sending out its sign

of existence,

“I am here.”

There is so much more

than nothing.

If one tiny flash of star

can give a child a

fairytale of belief,

who are we to drown out

milky ways with city lights?

Even the beacons

that have long since burnt away

can still be seen.

Echoes of selfless giants

devouring themselves

with lantern light

billions of miles away.

Give dawn a break.

It has done so much more

than hush us from tomorrow.