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Kschwendt, Audrey, Morning Juice


Audrey Kschwendt
Age: 13, Grade: 8

School Name: Hunter College High School, New York, NY
Educator: Victoria Meng

Category: Poetry

Morning Juice

The amber light
shines on my bare feet
as I step into the kitchen.

the sky is a pale blue
and the little pink flowers
peek through the
delicate blades of green grass.

“Too perfect” it seems
as if it were a scene from one of my grandmother’s paintings;
like the small window was merely a frame,
a device to capture
and compliment the simple beauty. 

I fumble along the marble counter,
my limbs sore from a restless sleep.
Until my fingers brush a sticky metal appliance.

“Orange juice.”
The words pull up a memory,
from the depths of my mind.

A small girl,
four or five
walks in.

it is cloudy, grey, and damp,
but she either does not see,
or just does not care.

Humming an off key tune,
she skips up to the counter.
A genuine smile plastered to her face.

she steps onto the tomato red stool.
She gazes up at her grandfather,
then sister,
who nod encouragingly.

Her sister holds back
the girl’s golden curls.
a few strands escape her grasp,
and tickle the girl’s cheek.
She giggles.

She presses down
on the juicer’s handle.

Bright orange
sloshes into the cup,
like little sparks
from a burning flame.
Like the rays
coming from the golden sun.

Taking a small sip,
her eyes light up.

I hear footsteps
clunking against the wooden floor.

And my memory disappears
like a burning candle being blown out.

It is my grandfather
and my sister
who come to stand beside me.

I tie my hair back with a black elastic
and standing directly on the cold kitchen tiles,
I press down on the handle.

Bright orange
Sloshes into the cup.