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Storm King School Poetry Contest Winners

Storm King School Poetry Contest Winners

Three Kents Hill School student poets in Mr. Chabot's Creative Writing class, Josie C. '25, Emma M. '25, and Jess S. '24, were each named one of 20 winners in the Storm King School Poetry Festival Contest!

Josie's poem, "Chase and I", Emma's poem "Vigilate", and Jess's poem "Grief" were selected by judges and writers, Joanna Solfrian and Zoe Ryder White. 

Their poems will be celebrated at a poetry event held at Storm King School, and each poem will also be published and anthologized in this year's winners collection. 

Kents Hill Creative Writing students have been submitting work to this annual contest since 2018. Kents Hill has had 11 winners in 7 years. Previous winners have included Clara-Eve Landry '23, Ava Katz '23, Jess Link '20, Ashalia Bilodeau '19, Arianna Pearman '19, Mike Capone '18, Annie Citrine '18, and Tiffany McGhie '18.


Chase and I by Josie C. '25

My childhood caches in the cabinets of my room, 
times when it was once ours,
sacred souvenirs of bald Barbies and yellowed-paper notebooks, 
reminds me of the two little girls, who discovered the world
hand over hand.

Chase and I
invented a world within those four walls.
Nights before first grade spent
unfolding our clothes on the floor for the next day
and shaping them to look like two people holding each other's sleeves. 
Pink-spined books like Bibles,
lining the bookshelves,
A tightly packed timeline.
When we were supposed to be asleep, 
I remember, 
my sister’s honey hair spilling over the side of her top bunk, 
her voice sounded more like my own.
Bite marks on the bunk's wooden bed rail were our war-marks. 
It meant we got to hold up the pearly white,
like a trophy in front of an opponent's face, 
and smile as the blood oozed from our gum.
To us
we were the only two people in the world.

As I sit thousands of miles away, 
an Atlantic away from her,
my stomach twists
to think about the room’s astute stillness
memories marinating in the walls in a timeless silence. 
My sister’s silhouette standing in the doorframe, 
letting her grip loosen.


"Vigilate" by Emma M. '25

V, a letter not often used, a letter lost, a letter forgotten by most. 
Any word starting with such a peculiar letter sparks my interest. 
Vigilate. 
Could it be, like a vigilante, a hero of the night?
This word: jagged-edged, ragged, paranoid, and pale yellow in color. This word: strongly opinionated. This word: like a cactus, beautiful, but don’t get too close.
Vigilate.
Is hidden.
Vigilate. 
Tastes like straight black coffee.
Vigilate.
To be alert, to be wakeful; sleepless, to be watchful; avoiding danger. 
Vigilate.
An overflowing bathtub, you must turn it off. 
A beautiful hawk flying over a wheat field, eager to find prey.
A bottomless body of black water.


Grief by Jess S. '24

It comes and goes.
A putrid, gripping, feeling that demands to be felt.
I once believed, after time passed, grief would fade away forever.
But I know better now. 

A putrid, gripping, feeling that demands to be felt,
Despite resisting.
But I know better now.
Even now, years passed, grief spills out. 

Despite resisting, 
Feeling just as hurt as the time before,
Even now, years passed, grief spills out. 
Now, I know healing isn’t linear.
 
Feeling just as hurt as the time before.
I once believed, after time passed, grief would fade away forever,
Now, I know healing isn’t linear.
It comes and goes.