Locals write love poems to Miami. Here are the winners of Sonnet Boom contest

More than 500 Miamians put pen to paper this winter to profess their love for the 305 as part of Sonnet Boom: Love Poems for Miami.

State of play: After 140,000 votes, organizers — including Elevate Miami, O, Miami and SWWIM — announced the winners last night.

🥇 The Adult Category winners:

• First: Michael Ivory ("Magic City")
• Second: Clayre Benzadón ("Miami (Debutante) Sonnet")
• Third: Nyah Hardmon ("305786")

🥇 The Youth Category winners:

• First: Ava, Grade 10, Ransom Everglades School ("The Pink Hotel Threw Fire")
• Second: Andrea, Grade 10, The Cushman School ("Border to Boulevard")
• Third: Nadine, Grade 8, Miami Arts Charter School ("Magic City")

🤑 Winners in both categories receive prizes of up to $2,000, along with opportunities for publication and live performance.

The first-place sonnets are replicated below

"Magic City" by Michael Ivory

Maybe it's the hibiscus trumpets blaring life

amongst the green we take for granted

or the mangrove roots prophesying

that our legs could stand on land and sea.

Maybe it's the salt we taste in the conch,

or at Virginia Key, or in our sweat like pearls,

each of us seasoned with joy. Here,

we speak the language of heat like love.

Maybe it's how we pray with our lips

but call God forth with our hips, rockin',

whammin'. Maybe it's the music

we keep in our skin, immortal memory.

Maybe it's our bloodlines, borderless and bronze.

What spell you figure blessed us with a home like this?

"The Pink Hotel Threw Fire" by Ava

The pink hotel threw fire across their wall, Miami waking loud with heat and light. My feet swung air; I could not reach at all The sugared tile still cooling from the night. Abuela tapped her spoon — ven, toma más — Blew once, then fed me sweetness from the foam. Fried bread and Vicks and ocean air would pass Through every open window of that home. Abuelo laughed, mira el mar, the door wide spread; Salt settled cool and shining on my skin. Collins Avenue roared on overhead, But softer tides were always moving in. The city spoke in tongues I came to teach — I learned its pulse inside that room by the beach.