Great Poetry from TIC Students

What About Trout
A life-cycle series of trout poems and journal entries from Nichols Middle School in Buffalo, NY.

Oh, My Little Brook Trout
by Alec, MS 216

Oh, my little brook trout, running across the lake
fast like a cheetah
staying wide awake
spiders, tadpoles, baby snakes.
Upon that rounded snout
is your mouth,
where these little critters enter you; trout.

Oh, my little Brook Trout, an ant you are upon your size
Ten to Twelve inches
Beautiful brown eyes
olive, blue, grey, or black, red along the sides
Salvelinus Fontinalis (That's Latin)
That is your name
Scientific name, that is, my fish

Oh, my little brook trout, living in the best
North America, cold water
Ph. Level of 5 to 7.5, 39 to 72 F, this is where you rest
Too bad you don't have an adress
No pollution allowed
Humans make acid rain
Deadly like a bomb, you want to scream so loud

Oh, my little Brook Trout, starting as an egg
turns into a fry
not to be eaten as you beg
turns into a Parr,alive
Then into an adult
Live until you're five

Oh, my little Brook Trout, a star as you shine
beautiful fish
Delicious dines
Magnificent, Divine
We hope you're never extinct
People fish for you
You are distinct


Gliding Ninjas
by Joshua, MS 216
Gliding ninjas
Of the sea
You are biracial,
I can see.
A shadowy top
A radiant belly
Swift as a cheetah,
Smooth as jelly.
You’re initially petty,
Then you become something grand.
Up to eighteen inches long,
You’re now longer than my hand.
Seemingly simple,
Yet so demanding.
pH levels moderate,
And temperatures freezing.
Don’t be in shame,
Being sensitive is fine.
You ensure our water’s health,
Which we drink all the time.
You are an indicator species.
You keep our water in check.
But the ammonia you produce
Makes me say, blech!
I find it strange
How diminutive you devour.
Simply immature aquatic insects
Give you enough power.
It must be to keep you lean,
And nimble swimmers.
Graceful as ballerinas,
Skilled gymnastic performers.
Oh little fish,
How fragile you are.
Logging, development and overfishing
Leave you hurt with scars.
This is why
We must strive,
To protect the fish
That helps keep us alive.


Ode to the Trout
by Christina, MS 216

I awoke in the middle of the tank
all the other trout swam around me.
I could see their life surrounding me.
Olive green to dark brown they darted. 

Soon I was exploring the new world myself
wriggling my new yellow tail
trying to swim against the current
miniscule fish against the waves.

There were strange-looking people that stared at us
They changed the water we lived in
They fed us and watched us
As we swam around in circles.

On days I don’t see the human, I feel sick.
The pH levels higher than average
and it is uncomfortable
because our waste releases ammonia.

We traveled at the speed of light
Swimming like we were a swarm of bees.
Preparing for survival in the real world
where we have to be the soldier of the sea.
Fish fall and fish die
From overcrowding, starvation, or high pH levels
Later, the humans pick them up
And never seen again.

Almost every day we are fed
It is a matter of life or death.
We shove and we fight
sometimes, we eat each other.
Most of the time, we reside in the darkest corners.

We live best in cooler temperatures, around 50 degrees Fahrenheit.
When it’s calm, I relax
laying among the rocks.
I heard about our job
and what we mean to the eco-system.

Like a canary in the mine-field
we detect the health of the water.
We have lived in the water for long.
Learning the routine of the tank

Until it all went totally wrong.
We were taken, every one, and placed in the dark bucket we came from.
We were dropped in a river.
Never ending water, unpredictable food source.

There were other trout there too.
They were brown like us, and showed us the tricks to living.
Soon, we were living in the river peacefully.
Our eyes sparkling with glee

We dance the life of freedom
The life of the Brook Trout.

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