Poetry

Bruised
by Grace Hugo '22

What if I wanted to be lavender? 

He never asked me. 

Stuck on a sad tune I watch,

envious of others and their complexion.

Bluest eyes, diamond hearts, creating a wonderland of lust. 

Clones following. 

 

He turns his back to me, ferocity igniting. 

The hit of ecstasy, 

the slap of life. 

Purple beyond compare. 

Who can tell me what I am to look like? 

Why can I not be happy in my own house, a pool full of crickets singing into my ear, reminding me to eat my breakfast. 

I never wanted him but he wanted me. 

 

My mind filled with color, my face without. 

My skin aches as I reach to pull it off. 

A new coat of life as I drop the paper thin layer into the trash. 

 

A town once empty, now filled. 

 

Finally lavender and finally gone. 

that's why
by Katherine Becker '22

 

Because I love you, that’s why. 

Yes, I was told to give up on you, time and time again, 

if he frustrates you, if he’s not cooperative, give up, 

give up, you don’t need to help him. 

 

but you, 

yes you, 

I love you. 

 

It’s not easy to give up when     I care too much.

Yes, I know I care too much.     I care 

more about your success than sometimes I think you do. 

I care when you aren’t 

          paying attention,             I care about the little details. 


 

I don’t just want to tell you what to do. 

 

I want to tell you why. 

 

It’s important. 

 

Yes, the why is the most important part. 

   I don’t  care that you know everything, 

just enough to get you by. just enough so that 

you’ll be okay when I’m gone. just enough that when I leave, you’ll think, 

oh that’s why, yes, 

  now I understand.

Two Worlds
by Katherine Goff '22

A sudden rumble, 

followed by an unexpected 

woosh from above. 

 

As I peer to the sky, 

my eye greets the source of disruption, 

a plane. 

 

But not just a plane. 

 

A way to travel home, 

someone’s biggest fear, 

a place to cry and to laugh. 

 

A time for you, 

a time for silence,

a time to escape. 

 

An opportunity to observe the world from above. 

 

A house, 

a mountain range, 

an ocean. 

 

A city skyline in the middle of the night, 

a golden sunrise, 

and teal water off the coast of an island. 

 

And when it all 

disappears into 

a misty cloud,

one must wonder 

what happens below.

Spoiled Pet
by Scotty Ruth '22

Waking up with breakfast made

and a bowl of fresh water.

Being let outside to walk around.

Coming back inside and starting the day.

Unlimited belly rubs,

scratches behind the ears,

and nonstop snuggling on the couch.

A dog’s life is pretty good.

Going on walks and chasing squirrels,

eating treats and table scraps.

Sleeping wherever they feel:

on a bed, couch, or by a door.

Wagging their tail, perking their ears,

learning tricks like shake-and-sit.

Ending the day on a warm fuzzy bed.

A dog’s life is pretty good.

Fallen Carrot Stick
by Cam Holdych '22

Apple slices, leftover chinese, ice cubes–

What happens to food that falls out of the fridge? 

 

Do you lawfully abide by the “five second rule” 

and quickly scoop up your dropped sandwich, 

or do you take the safe route 

and toss the smushed lump

into the trash? 

 

When an ice cube misses your cup, 

do you pick it up and throw it in the sink,

or do you absent-mindedly kick it underneath the fridge 

to melt away, forever gone from your mind? 

 

When a splash of orange juice hits the floor, 

do you take the immediate action 

to wipe away the sticky mess, 

or do you sit for a minute and reflect

in the yellow puddle

before cleaning up the juice? 

 

At what point does food become pointless to try to save? 

 

Will you eat a dropped cookie 

but throw away a fallen carrot stick?

Tainted Flowers
by Evans Campbell '22

Giving flowers 

Flowers 

There is a quote 

From my family's favorite show 

“You give ‘em for no reason, buddy, no reason at all” 

I've been given flowers 

For a reason 

And it’s nice 

But it's a reminder 

It is an allergic reaction 

To the memory 

The forgiveness

Maybe not forgiveness

Just the confusion 

They are a beautiful 

Suggestion 

That without purpose are 

Simple and wonderful 

But with purpose 

of apologetic nature 

Are so lost in translation 

That it can seem 

Like hope 

Or suggest something more 

Words are better for those situations.

I would only like to receive flowers 

For simple uncomplicated 

Measures

Thessaloniki, Virginia
by Ella McDaniel '22

The time we ran in your yard, tripping

over branches, limbs, shoes.

The time we sat there

breathless

on your front stairs.

 

The time you went away

I don’t remember how long.

I made friends with the silver glint

of your mail slot.

 

The time I remember the clear glass of your door

and the clear chime of your doorbell.

The time your mother invited me,

with a kiss on the cheek,  

for dinner, as a second daughter. 

 

The time we ate 

feta, olives, tomatoes

and your Greek names for them.

The time when I see them 

in grocery stores

and how they remind me of you.

 

The time you sent me pictures

of your burnt red skin

by that other country’s sun

and its blue 

skies and oceans. 

 

The time when I’m here

and how a part of me

is with you across 

that blue. 

 

The time when I wake up

and see your car parked 

and no more silver glint. 

And then we run, like the time before. 

My Brother's Room
by James Beeghly '22

Now the guest room,

But as he moved out, so did many of its things

 

The twin bed in the corner grew to a king

A bookshelf for books turned into a bookshelf for storage

A desk full of school supplies was replaced by an Xbox 

 

The room of my brother, now the room of so much more

 

A room for my grandparents to stay

A room for late nights playing video games

A room to work out

A room for my parents when one is sick

A quiet room 

A room to keep me calm

First Snow
by David Ding '22

Flash of morning light

Scares away the frigid night

Rays scatter, snow white

Midnight
by Lacey Word '22

Grass blows in the wind; 

Cattle lay in the moonlight,

Awakened by rain.

John Wooton '22

The moon dips behind

a cloud as the rain falls, which

makes puddles into little drums

Drip Check
by Jalen Pierce '22

My drip is the TOP

I’m always first-team no cap

My ice makes frost melt!

Maddax Winston-Evans '22

Dawn breaks the dark night.

Another innocent soul

is brought into light.

Lilly Krusen '25

As I sipped my coffee,

Lightly drizzled with caramel sauce

And topped with whipped cream

And a cherry (obviously),

I couldn’t help but contemplate,

In complete shock and incredulity,

What I had just seconds ago experienced; 

I had listened to and watched,

With great astonishment and disbelief, 

Two birds having a civilized conversation. 

Yes, the two birds were in fact, talking to each other. 

And yes, I did drop my steaming hot coffee 

All over my lap and brand new pair of jeans.

Nora Wallace '25

My father’s favorite chair is made of leather;

His favorite shirt, of polyester.

I remember him like it was yesterday,

Where we were laughing and dancing together.

Gone are the days of no responsibilities.

Gone are the days of no worries.

My father’s favorite shoes are brown.

His favorite car is red.

Never again will he wear his shirt and shoes, or drive his car.

Never again will he sit in his favorite chair

Made of leather.

[The above work is fiction]

Caroline Crawford '25

I saw a zebra with no stripes

And the most amazing electric red bird.

I saw a rainbow in the sky

And a noble steed ready to take me 

On an adventure to defeat the evil dragon lurking in the forest.

Years later, I returned to this place where my imagination ran wild.

I passed a brown donkey

And a neglected bird feeder

With the painting of a cardinal on its side.

I scanned the bleak sky for any sign of color,

But it was crowded with thick clouds. 

I spotted the old and tired horse

That would accompany me on expeditions

To the forest where I battled my chores. 

The farm where I lived looks different

In my clouded eyes.

The Pond
by Jacob Hunt '23

I

The pond sits at the bottom of a hill

Surrounded by lush grasses,

Filled with an abundance of life,

As it awaits the sunlight from above.

II

The tepid water begins to warm.

Bacteria finds new life

And continues to grow from the warmth

Of the lifegiving heat of the sun.

III

The once flourishing pond

Diminishes to a puddle,

Exposing the roots of the dying grasses,

As the rigid carcasses of

Hope wither,

Until at last sunlight is swallowed by clouds.

Thunder roars and lightning strikes nearby.

A drop of water lands into the parched pond.

Zoë Mintz '23

Ashes flutter up. 

Blankets wrap shivering hands

reaching for the fire.

Change
by Olivia Fairlamb '22

I wonder if the moon knows she’s the same moon when she’s a sliver as when she’s full. 

Sometimes, I feel smaller than my skin, echoes of my voice filling hollow hallways.

I don’t register the cold, hardwood floor on my feet,

cannot hear my fingers whispering to the doorknob.

Somehow, the shoes I wore yesterday are too tight.

 

In severed seconds, I see my shadow in the mirror in place of my face.

When I recognize myself again, I’m closer, 

and nothing has grown but the list of what I want. 

One day, I will be fluent in its language. 

 

These days, I only let the sun touch my hair.

I want her to give me a different name.

Now, if I meet myself from Wednesday, I think we could be perfect strangers.

The Way The S Falls 
by Grayson Forstner '25

Seeking shelter, she stood at the shore.

Seeing the sea she saw scary, slippery snakes.

Seeing the snakes be shown snow sent her sanity away.

Safely the snakes slithered away, so she was satisfied.

She saw herself and sighed,

Sensed her sanity slipping away. 

She sank in the salt sea,

Scammed into seeing scary snowmen,

Snowmen who sneakily seeped into her mind.

Soaked, she swam slowly to safety.

Snakes and snowmen sacked her sleep.

Scaly scales and slippery snow

Saw and sensed her shady setup.

She sent them swimming away.

She was a shell without her dreams.