In your next letter

For this week at Shoesmith, students explored the significance of letter writing. Unlike tweets, Facebook posts, or text messages, letters allow us to put time and effort into communicating our most inner thoughts and emotions. By sharing our personal stories, we can create a distinct poetic style and voice, as well as build a close relationship with our audience.

Together students read the poem “In your next letter,” by Carrie Shipers. The speaker of the poem is addressing a letter to her mother, asking for special mementos from the small farm, that was her childhood home. Students discussed Shipers’ use of concrete details; the incorporation of the five senses to describe the speaker’s memories of the country. From the itchy tomato leaves to the fragrance of wheat and diesel. These vivid descriptions allowed students to experience the speaker’s melancholy and loneliness from moving to the city; the need to reconnect with nature and family. Inspired by Shipers’ strong imagery, students wrote letter poems addressed to the people, places, and objects in their lives. Enjoy this week’s poems.



                                                              Ms. Wesson’s 5th Grade
                                                                             Group 1


In your next letter, YouTube
Matthew B.

Can you not constantly take down
some of the best videos on the site.
You constantly spoil things.

But I’m still addicted.
I always frantically scroll down
for a new video. I love to find
new people to subscribe to.

My mind is like a clock that’s set
on watching your site. You are part
of my routine, until you shattered
our relationship by spoiling my
favorite show.

I have disdain towards you now.


In your next letter, Pizza
Noemi N.

Continue to melt in my mouth.
You taste like heaven. When I’m
in the car, I wait with my mom
at Domino’s until they call
the number 3ll.

They give us a greasy box,
that smells like garlic.
The bubbling hot cheese
looks so good. I want to
scarf you down!

Right now, my hand is
reaching for it, so tempting.
I can’t wait to see you again.
Heh! Heh!


In your next letter, Chair
Yoshua G.

Come back, I miss sitting on you.
You are vintage brown, the color
of trees. For 24 hours I have been
hugging my teddy, thinking of you.
Please come back to me!

I now understand why you broke.
I guess two people can’t fit on a chair.
But anyway, if your reading this please
forgive me. We need to buy more legs
for you.

Peter weighs more than me.



                                                          Ms. Wesson’s 5th Grade
                                                                          Group 2


In your next letter, Thanksgiving
Lailah B.

Hey turkey day, it’s been so long.
Every time I hear the word
Thanksgiving, I think of food
that’s so delicious it makes me
go crazy.

When you’re out of the oven, I really
don’t care that your hot, you smell tasty.
The crispiness of your skin and your
juicy insides. Man! I wish you could
know how good you taste.

But the best part of your special day,
is everyone staring at you, ready to
dig in. I hope you’re grateful, that you only
come once a year.

But, watch out! Your siblings
always want to take over.
See you next year, gobble, gobble.


In your next letter, Utah
Demetrion P.

Utah, I miss the cold winters.
The snow being five inches high.
I miss the mountain peaks
touching the sky.

I miss the hot summers,
going to water parks, enjoying
the scorching sun.

I miss the Salt Lake freezing,
and the rocky roads.
I miss my home state.

I love you Salt Lake City, Utah.


In your next letter, Dog
Michael S.

I miss your soft furry body wrapped
in my arms. I miss seeing you running
around in the grass.

I miss you smelling like a skunk
as I washed you with shampoo.

Your bark was high pitch and mean
just like a human’s voice.

I hope I see you in the afterlife.



                                                           Ms. Henry’s 6th Grade
                                                                         Group 1


In your next letter, Rain
Christopher B.

Tell me where you have gone.
I miss you so. You haven’t been
here in oh so long.

Rain, your loss has confused me.
Rain, I miss your nice, moist atmosphere.
All I have is the ice from the stratosphere.

Rain, I miss your cotton candy clouds.
I miss you thundering so loud.
Rain, I miss your jazz touch.

Snow is not enough, Rain.


In your next letter, Cookie
Lena L.

My future dog. Please wait for me.
It won’t be long. Just promise me
you won’t chew my stuff.
I have always wanted you.

I can’t wait to go to sleep tonight and see
you in my dreams: fluffy soft fur, gentle,
playful and obedient.

If you promise to write back soon
I’ll give you a treat. I will always
love and adore you. You will always
be in my heart.

We will have our time and meet one day.
Maybe, I’ll find you walking astray.


In your next letter, Lausanne, Switzerland
NGone D.

You were a quiet town.
We knew where everything was.
But you were way too cold.

I miss you smelling like freshly baked
croissants and the jelly filled powdered donuts.
To wake up with the feeling of reassurance by
that favorite stuffed animal.

Every year the ice-skating rink is open.
We would skate and skate for hours
near the burger stands and cotton candy.

I miss you Lausanne, Au revoir.



                                                             Ms. Henry’s 6th Grade
                                                                          Group 2


In your next letter, Grandma
Kalaya B.
Grandma Washington, I miss you
and those coloring books you always
gave me when I was younger.

I miss when you used to help me with
my homework when I was struggling.
You always cooked my favorite meals
and bought me my favorite toys.

You had babysat me and my cousins
Rashaad and Christina when our parents.
were out at work. You sung us songs
when we were going to sleep.

These past years have been hard without you.
But I know your in a better place.


In your next letter, Mom
Zoey B.

Please remember that your great cooking
brings joy to my heart.

Also, send me pictures of my childhood
with you, and a description of how life is now.

Be sure to remember what you gave me
before I left to pursue my education.

The joyful moments we spent together
with my sister. The adventures we took
as went on our path through life.

The nice smell of Thanksgiving and Christmas,
pot roast, green beans, lamb chops, pasta, all
the goods.

I wish I could have the recipe for that late
night dinner you had made.

I wish I could feel your kiss on my cheek,
to feel like you’re right next to me.


In your next letter, Future Self
Amir B.

I need you to open this folder.
I know you are feeling completely
amazed. I see the joy in your eyes.
Dude you reek with excitement,
just from reading this.

If you touch this paper, you will feel your
past self. I might just be better than you.
Once you see this paper you will hear
the pencil from the past.

This poem is so good, you’ll want to eat it.
But don’t do it.

To find me go towards the back of the
folder to the right. If you really know me,
you’ll know which side this poem is in.




“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.