ignorance is bliss
Naomi Karina | Young Artists Issue | Poetry, Winter 2026
reminisce to a time when the cicadas were only a lullaby,
when the air felt cooler on our skin and we did not
choke on the humidity. innocence is something vague
yet still taken—she stole a kiss when i was seven,
when i didn’t know what the word “sex” meant,
when i was still young enough to bake mud pies in the backyard.
today, i try to mold the earth to my hands, to make it
soft and easy. the grass pokes my feet and the bees bite
my legs, still alive under the buzz of cicadas. i think
we are all just trying to survive to the next season,
wishing upon shooting stars for tomorrow instead of dreams.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“This poem is the tiny, fading handprint of my childhood self. I don’t know when exactly it was that my childhood bliss began to elude me, but I do know it fled far too quickly. I will always be grasping for the simplicity of it all, trying to find the traces of my younger self even as I step into the next season of life. She exists ceaselessly, here, in written form.”
Naomi Karina is an aspiring teen poet with an abhorrent displeasure toward capitalizing important matters, but for the sake of professionalism, she’ll make an exception this time. She is 18 years old and attends Pella Community Highschool as a senior. She doesn't quite know what she wants to be when she grows up yet, but she does know that poetry is certain in her future. She currently resides in Pella, Iowa, and can usually be found pretending to be wistful while writing in her journal.
ignorance is bliss
Naomi Karina
Young Artists Issue | Poetry, Winter 2026
reminisce to a time when the cicadas were only a lullaby,
when the air felt cooler on our skin and we did not
choke on the humidity. innocence is something vague
yet still taken—she stole a kiss when i was seven,
when i didn’t know what the word “sex” meant,
when i was still young enough to bake mud pies in the backyard.
today, i try to mold the earth to my hands, to make it
soft and easy. the grass pokes my feet and the bees bite
my legs, still alive under the buzz of cicadas. i think
we are all just trying to survive to the next season,
wishing upon shooting stars for tomorrow instead of dreams.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“This poem is the tiny, fading handprint of my childhood self. I don’t know when exactly it was that my childhood bliss began to elude me, but I do know it fled far too quickly. I will always be grasping for the simplicity of it all, trying to find the traces of my younger self even as I step into the next season of life. She exists ceaselessly, here, in written form.”
Naomi Karina is an aspiring teen poet with an abhorrent displeasure toward capitalizing important matters, but for the sake of professionalism, she’ll make an exception this time. She is 18 years old and attends Pella Community Highschool as a senior. She doesn't quite know what she wants to be when she grows up yet, but she does know that poetry is certain in her future. She currently resides in Pella, Iowa, and can usually be found pretending to be wistful while writing in her journal.
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