By Elliott McCloskey
Published January 6, 2016
A curiously-shaped case, elongated ebony Buckles, that when opened reveal gleaming gold Nestled in velvet, radiant brass glints in twists and turns Narrow pipes widen to a vast bell Pieced together with knobs and screws...
By Sydney Pardo
Published January 5, 2016
The scent of apples whispers through the air Reminding me of our lazy days in the orchard Lying in a bed of violet morning glories Inhaling the scent of the wind Remember the day we...
By Sonia Bhaskaran
Published January 5, 2016
Two birds spiral, Then one races after another, And they dart through the air. When their chase is done, One stretches its slender neck and dives, The other pumps its strong wings and rises. In...
By Matteo Vita Harris
Published January 5, 2016
Speaking of sorrow and happiness. Telling a short story with a new voice. Speaking with a mouth of words. Soft as a baby’s cheek. Poem.
By Nadia Rossy
Published January 4, 2016
The rain steadily falls, against the roof of my bus stop. The air is so cold I can see my sparkling white breath. I can already tell it’s going to be a long dreary day....
By Elisabeth Martin
Published January 2, 2016
Nothing ever stays the same Family going, Never coming back Tears fall Goodbyes made Why won’t the world stop spinning? Sorrow, joy Blended into one Leaving, For a better place Why can’t we go as...
By Isaac Walsh
Published January 2, 2016
I must have been only six at the time, my sister, Poppy, two I must have wondered why Poppy decided to look at the parked cars in the parking lot rather than walk the Stone...
By Vincenzo Ruggiero
Published December 31, 2015
When I arrive home from school she’s there waiting, in the window. She wags her tail joyfully. Her long slobbery tongue licks me all over. As I open the door to the backyard Bella bolts...
By Lucy Hoak
Published December 30, 2015
Nestled between two gnarled tree roots Is a fairy house with A sunken floor of red clay, A triangular roof of interlocking sticks, And a winding path of pebbles leading to a Bark door. Inside,...
By Isabelle Zeaske
Published December 29, 2015
The grove of royal white birches I’ve always loved Casts intricate shadows On the pavement below. Black on black Like deer running at night. A young fern sprout Catches my eye. Something shines But nothing...