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HW Winter2018 FINAL2cover

Colorado's public lands are faced with new challenges but water and land management depend on working together. Read about the relationship between water and land in Colorado and how Coloradans are converging to restore Colorado's public lands in the Spring 2018 issue of Headwaters magazine.

Browse articles and find a flipbook of the magazine here.

Connecting the Drops

connectingdropslogo4.1Bringing you the reporting you crave over the radio airways with extras and archives on our website. Visit the audio archives or listen to the latest story on the connection between Colorado's forests, watersheds, and forest fires:

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Water Education Colorado

Colorado Students Write Winning Water Poems

Each year Colorado Humanities, through its Center for the Book, hosts the Colorado River of Words award ceremony for Colorado's young poets.

Students from kindergarten through high school are eligible to submit their water and environmental poems to the national River of Words contest by Feb. 15 of each year. The poems are judged with those from all the other states in the Union.

Colorado entrants' poems are then sent back to Colorado Humanities for the state judging. This year, Colorado students submitted more than 400 poems.

The Colorado award winners are judged by award-winning poet Kathryn Winograd and Justice Greg Hobbs, vice-president of the Colorado Foundation for Water Education.

Here are the 2007 Colorado winning poems reprinted with permission of Colorado Humanities. Congratulations to the poets, their parents and teachers!

Kathryn Winograd's on line 5-unit course, Teaching the Poetry of Rivers, is available at http://www.ceh.org/ccftb/index.html

It's the hiss
of fire and
water meeting.
The sound
that sends
birds to the air.
The sound
that startles the woodland.
The sound
that sends the largest bear to the farthest tree.
A once calm riverbank
is engulfed in flames.
The birds return
days later
to find a riverbank in ruins.
Surprisingly the river still runs.
So do the creatures' spirits.

John Davies-Schley
National Poetry Finalist
Age 9, Individual Entry
Jenny Davies-Schley, Parent

Talking Trees
Trees talk
All the time
They yell
They whisper
They even rhyme
When they're mad
They blow their leaves
Sometimes they let out a deep s-i-g-h
They tell the truth
They even lie.

Erin Kopal
National Poetry Finalist
Grade 5, West Woods Elementary
Jennifer Arzberger, Teacher
Arvada, Colorado

Is There a Place to Rest My Soul?
As snow flake stars fall through my scars;
As dusk grows restless and valleys get wide;
Winds get heavy and souls go hard, living through nightmares.
Is there love, is there hope
Is there light in this unraveling loophole?

Crystal Schwaigert
National Poetry Finalist
Grade 6, Mrachek Middle School
Linda Johnson, Teacher

The Forest
A clear open space through the pine trees.
Sunset rising over the mountains, through the hills.
Birds gliding in the fresh blue air.
I can smell the fresh pine trees that swallow the bulging wind.
Birds singing.

Lumps of silver gold and purplish red, ice lumps.
Rain trickling down the old oak tree.
Winds sweeping up old spider webs.
Bark tearing through the wind.

It is now light, dark is gone.
I can see the bluebirds.
The tiger-eye.
Now all animals roll through the sparking rain puddles.

Kiara Cottrell
1st Place, Level I
Grade 2, Slate River School
Amelia Jervey, Teacher
Crested Butte

I Am A Mountain Stream
I am a mountain stream.
I tumble twist and fall.
I roll down the mountains.
I unfold as I go.
I grow shallow,
I grow deep,
I may grow rough,
Or I may turn still,
I am a part of nature,
For I am the mountain stream.

I go into a river.
It is a part of me.
I go into a thalweg,
Happy as can be.
My flow may turn into waves.
The fish are like blood within me.
For I am the river.

After awhile,
I become vast and wide.
I can bring out tsunamis,
Or I can be as calm as can be.
Now my blood is very salty.
For I am the ocean.

Now I turn into a mist.
Carried in the clouds.
My thunder may growl with rage
And fierce lightning break the sky.
Or I can be a blanket of spay
Falling in the mountains.
For I am the rain.

Again I am gathered into a mountain stream.
Ready to begin my journey once again.

Ryland Mahre
1st Place, Level II
Grade 4, Pomona Elementary School
Judy Golden, Teacher
Grand Junction

A River's Journey
Out of the snow bank little droplets of water fall,
Entwining together, they start to flow,
Creeping, seeping, twisting their way down the mountainside,
They join the others; begin swelling in size,
A steady rush down the canyon.

As creeks join in, the river is amplified,
Roaring louder and louder.
Until -- all at once -- everything is calm;
A great expanse of still water—reflecting the mountains around.

A great wall, plugging the flow,
All but a place, where the water rushes thru,
And making its way again,
Building its force, as more creeks join the chorus,
The river dances its way down.

This river, the mighty Rio Grande,
Pushes down, into the San Luis valley,
Being diverted into the canals,
To raise the valleys livelihood,
But the heart of the river keeps beating.

Anglers walk the banks along,
And thru the shallows
In pursuit of the wily fish
Who thrive in the flowing lair.

Down, down into New Mexico,
Into the land of enchantment,
More of its flow enchanted away,
Into orchards with sweet, fresh fruit laden.

Cutting the south features of the Texas border,
Sharing its wealth between (Texas and Mexico),
Getting depleted—the only water in a parched land—as it moves along,
The river struggles with all it has left towards its goal;

But manmade folly has long from since
Given the Rio Grande power to flow
All but a muddy trickle—
To the Gulf of Mexico.

Forrest Getz
1st Place, Level III
Grade 8, Home Schooled
Virginia Getz, Teacher

The Consistence of Sand

The flaccid branches harden to twist like briar.
Yet how the trees, how they look tired.
The ever-pressing weight that such things hold,
Maintain a likeness, to all our souls.

Will we succumb to the buildings of man?
All things strain under the consistence of sand.
Uncertainty, frailty indeed. Do we need much more?
There are wings that sing, beyond closed doors.

In the absence of these doors, there are doorways.
Open to sight, and meant to be seen,
Open to the light, and those that deem,
Nothing can touch the tranquility of this place.

Tepid water, fills all voids,
Yet doesn't remain calm, avoids stagnancy.
When we begin to drink water, like our wine,
We shall see the beauty of being.

Our world, so unlike the fallacious land that rings,
The stout sound of the discordant television screens.

Past the innumerable windows, the umpteenth doors,
Lies our pending caprice, the prospect of something more.

Justin Marshall
1st Place, Level IV
Grade 11, Roaring Fork High School
Suzanne Stutler-Windmueller, Teacher

At Night
At night the sun faints away.
As the moon floats up like the dove that glides.
Birds go glittering across the sky as lights go off.
Rivers stay calm, crickets chirp, fires flitter down.

Count to ten

It's morning, the sun comes gliding up as the moon falls to the ground.
Birds come up, lights go on, rivers are splashing and crickets hop.
Fires crackle.

Count to ten

It's dark like a hawk.

Birch Davis
2nd Place, Level I
Grade 2, Individual Entry
Raemon Davis, Parent
Crested Butte

River Speaks
I am the water under your boat,
I am the fresh crisp substance the children ripple their hands in,
I am the lily pad that supports the frog,
Beauty you cannot find the words to express,
I am the Mother Nature that lets creators swim and drink
from my banks,
I am the current carrying all leaves that gently wander down into my
I am the sight token in vacation pictures,
quench to your thirst,
I am the water you stir in your tea, the flavor with in,
I am the very one river life calls home,
I am like a beautiful butterfly yet to emerge,
Sixty percent liquid keeping you alive,
I rush down the path to freedom,
I splash my waves and it is music to your ears and harmony
to your heart,
I am not only a river
I am you.

Brianna States
2nd Place, Level II
Grade 4, High Plains Elementary School
Kim Snowdon, Teacher
Colorado Springs

Snow is falling.
everything is covered
in a blanket of white.
No noises are made,
no animals in sight.
The sun slowly fades away.

I feel as if I'm walking
in a field of pillows.
Everything is so calm
as if the forest went to sleep.

A tree wakes up
shakes off all the white snow.
A river quietly runs
through the forest,
sneaks by the trees.

Duncan Loza
2nd Place, Level III
Grade 7, Good Shepherd Catholic School
Linda Keller, teacher

Starry Life
Many the stars in the heavens lofty halo
As the questions suspended within
Sky drawn tight with eyelids of night
Shut tight in the latent din.

Eclipsing the crescent inside
Is ever the expanse with out
The soul doth bide a darkness tide
Rinsing away the drought.

Thin bands of theology aloft
Necklace of stars twirling round
Spiraling out in a life set shining
Peace wet with crying to be found.

Teardrops twinkling down murky cheek
Nebulous benchmark high
Thus leans the lustrous orb of night
Which life is measured by.

Jacob Waller
2nd Place, Level IV
Grade 11, Arapahoe High School
Marlys Ferrill, Teacher

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