Category: Poetry

Autumn Gold

The sun in the noon-day sky is a giant beaming dandelion severed from its stem, Freely floating over the earth. A disembodied puff of flower head Liberated from earthly laws, Immortalized above the clouds despite the passing of its sister buds in the onslaught of November frost. Upon a barren hill, My fingers reach as […]

Sarah Klema '23

For Growing up in Rain

For grinded-teeth car rides; For growing up.  For being beaten into pavement; To prove a point.  For oily cat piss stains beneath the bed; For abandonment.  For coins and green paper; To live in a shadow.  For low-tide seas; For a shiny shell that breaks in a year.    Litter lent my nose the scent […]

Max Gilman '25

Godridden

Content warning: graphic violence  A shovel exuding the earth, Harking clouds, splattered in red– Judging which lays beneath dirt, God fearing pillar to man, Searing skies with treacherous stares, Branded children sway to a hurricane’s wind, Barely fogging outlines of a justice driven structure. Eventually the skies may clear, My grandmother told me, In an […]

Max Gilman '25

Return to Sender 

I found an envelope today.  It was pretty bent out of shape.  The stamps collected on top of one another,  Adding a raised texture to the paper’s surface.  The penciled-in cursive has faded over the years, And there are small tears bordering the edges.  Unopened, its surface has aged incredibly  But the words sealed inside […]

Anna Pomeroy '23

Home: The Best Place to Feel Awful

July, Age 16 The glossy water sways like liquid silk across an iridescent horizon. It’s only 9 a.m. and a temperate breeze flows off the Long Island Sound. Watercolors paint the sky in robin egg blue and white wisps of vapor clouds. It’s the summer before my junior year of high school, and my pulse […]

Meg Brodeur '24

“So Close to Christmas!” December 24th, 2003

Home was becoming more of a second abode to the two. Alice and Sam would stumble in, late hours of the night, Sighing as they brushed their teeth in an unwanted bathroom. Laying beside an unloved lover, Sinking further into cohesive blindness. Drinking was of the hour, until Alice realized it was the only thing […]

Max Gilman '25

Excerpt from the Diary of an Autumn Oak Tree

I have sunk into a patch of highly manicured terrain and am leisurely suffocating from the anthropogenic air. Dwelling around me is a plethora of frosty elements, embellishing my dull brittle bark with glimmering crystals. My rough skin serves as a protective barrier against the penetration of snow, sleet, and ice. However, my natural body […]

Meg Brodeur '24

The Season of the Witch

Dark sweaters, messy hair, Something odd is in the air. Flushed cheeks, wide grins, Goosebumps traveling up skin. Boiling potions, brews of caffeine, The steam leaves little to be seen. Frantic pacing, long nights, Someone has turned out the lights. Wild winds, scratchy threads, Nails painted in the deepest red, Sweet lips, pumpkin pie, They […]

Caitlin Bartley '24

Nightmare on Elm Street

He lurks in the streets,  Avoiding the illuminating glare of street lamps.  Passing each house, you can feel his presence in your heartbeat.  You fight the urge to sleep,  Dozing in and out. You’ve tried everything to stay awake But as your eyelids close, darkness creeps upon your pupils.  Not summoned by the lack of […]

Anna Pomeroy '23

Hispanic Heritage Month

Quien soy yo, si no una flor rompida de la tierra de mi madre, de mi padre. Who am I, if not a flower ripped from the soil of my mother, of my father. Tierra que una vez era mía––o así dicen. Tierra de gente con piel de oro. Land that was once mine––or so […]

Mariela Flores '23