Creativity in the form of words bloomed brightly at Sartell High School recently when an award-winning poet shared time with the students during workshops.
During a special reading in the school theater, students shared the poems they wrote.
The visiting writer was Dr. Patrick Hicks, an associate professor of English and journalism at Augustana College. His visit to Sartell was made possible by a grant from the Sartell-St. Stephen Education Foundation, said language arts teacher Jean Wenshau. About 325 students had the chance to participate in Hicks’ poetry workshops.
Prizes were presented to the top poets, who included Aleysha Vos, first place, who won $75; Bridget Maas, second place, who won $50; and Kathy Overby, third place, who won $25. All three also were given a $15 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble and an autographed copy of Hicks’ latest book of poetry, “This London.”
Honorable mention awards went to Claire Kurvers and Marissa Scherer.
Hicks was born and raised in Stillwater, earned a master’s degree in English from Queen’s University in Belfast, Northern Ireland and a master’s degree in English from the University of Sussex in England. He is a widely honored poet, novelist and teacher.
The following are the three award-winning poems by Sartell student poets:
by Aleysha Vos
A relaxed auburn flame perches atop its timber,
Wrapped under a grid of wire.
Even trapped within its cage,
Its hot breath reaches out to caress my cheeks.
’38 Model A Ford
by Bridget Maas
You crouch over the rusted metal,
faded jeans stained
with the grease of hard work.
Changing, fixing, building,
finishing a masterpiece.
’38 Model A Ford
Restoring her beauty.
Endless hours spent
making the old new,
I’m not perfect.
How can I recreate myself?
Like you are restoring your
’38 Model A Ford.
by Kathy Overby
“Decide,” said the doctor, “what’ll it be?”
Get a beautiful face scientifically
Approval is yours with fuller new lips
Made with the fat that we’ve drawn from your hips
Wrinkles be gone, and anxiety too
Ask about terms for a radiant you . . .
Well, the ether was sweet and my flesh is now tight
But my soul is still empty and black as the night.