The ocean is taught to always kiss the sandNo matter how often it’s pushed awayThe leaves learn how to wipe away their tearsWhenever the sky cuts itself in two Continue reading Maya Joseph – A Euphemism
on the sidewalk a heart pumps oxygenand legs pump spirittearing at the soilaggravating with worn rubber soles and the forceof a body in motion. Continue reading Effi Holston – she.
A poem should be freshPure fleshAnd boneIt should be compressedBe dressedIn stone Continue reading Tess Gordon – And Hark
When we are young we learn our colors.Each color in the rainbowWe learn the sky is blue and the grass is green.We learn the clouds are white and the dirt is brown.As we get older,the word color no longer means the same thing anymore. Continue reading Caroline Whalen – Color
Nantucket Drive, Chatham MassachusettsMy eyes look over the tall, swayingGrass as I am standing behind the dunes.I look beyond them so I can admireThe sea as it glistens from the sun. Continue reading Catherine Robinson – Postcard from the Dunes
1The phantom follows and fills my shadow.It sits on my back and makes me hollow.A missing shape, obscured by sun, IWalk away, but in my steps it follows. Continue reading Mitchell Gamburg – Queen of Hearts
I throw open the two front doors of our house after a tiring walk back from the bus station, and finally plop my backpack down on the living room floor. Yet another awkward, taxing day of school I’d rather forget, and I have an overwhelming urge to sprint upstairs and sleep my worries away. Continue reading Christopher Tam – Brother Mine