by Clara Johnson ’26 on September 25, 2025
Poetry
Rendered in colors blue and gold and sage
Of water color, my fragile heart was made.
Its pigments spread onto the ancient page
Made from the sturdy bark which aspens gave.
It shifts, it changes every time it rains.
The colors bleed and intertwine within.
And when I weep, it further seeps and stains.
Mostly it spreads. Grows wide, but it thins.
My water color heart, sacred and strange
Which every moment has the chance to change
Whose color seeps into the roots and veins
Of aspen bark—the blue, the gold, the sage.