Pooja Kawatkar // DAY AND NIGHT

My alarm rings at midnight; I am the watcher of the night The sky dark, only lit by the moon’s brilliance
The stars are there too, glimmering oh so bright
Yet the tiny crickets are the loudest in the distance

The rest take a break,
Waiting for daylight to thrive
They know how much heat they’ll create
Once they become alive

My alarm rings at dawn; I wake to its sound
The sky much brighter than before
The stars have disappeared, they’re nowhere around
The sun, too shy before, now the star of the show

The warmth cools down
The light fades away
The birds stop singing, too scared to make a sound
The moon then reappears, as forever it stays

Michele Oldrati // PANTOUM OF WATER: MANKIND’S VICE

Condensed into cloud, tamed by the world.
From heaven I glimpsed the beauty of an alluring orb. And its pain, I became fluffy at times. Oh, how much I loved myself then,
Kids now play with me, as if playing with spheres of love.

From heaven I glimpsed the beauty of an alluring orb. And its pain, I sometimes run downhill
Kids now play with me, as if playing with spheres of love.
The excitement and contentment of a sour future

I sometimes run downhill
Strolling down the steep gorges of rocky mountains,
The excitement and contentment of a sour future
when things go acutely awry

strolling down the steep gorges of rocky mountains,
past the alluring plains: trotting with my friends and family
when things go acutely awry
the debris of destruction, the pest

past the alluring plains: trotting with my friends and family
where the disaster happens. Pollution? Worse,
the debris of destruction, the pest
The shadowed shipwreck of a shivering shame

where the disaster happens. Pollution? Worse,
now back home with the minuscul and immense swimmers
the shadowed shipwreck of a shivering shame
and we all rise to meet our destiny again.

now back home with the minuscul and immense swimmers.
I became fluffy at times. Oh, how much I loved myself then,
and we all rise to meet our destiny again.
Condensed into a cloud, tamed by the world.

Catalina L. // IMMORTAL BLAZE

The fog surges,
the sunrise awaits.
Complete serenity,
Rain, clarity
Yearning a shift.
The vapor cascades down,
Warmth, lucidity
a place
home to a dove.

Enchanting,
Captivating
Enduring the luminosity,
letting yourself immerse,
through the fog
the rain
The city of eternal spring.

Till nightfall,
and sunset
when the city becomes viable.
Light surges from the mountains,
overlooking the beacon
Sending the reek of death beyond
the enchantment
at the cusp of your fingers
Medellin

A shocking paradise
Where dark meets outstanding light.
Acquires a feeling of intimacy
Everyone ecstatic,
Joyful
content
Lights glowing
Water glistening
enchantment
Colombia.

Mor Evron // A SWIFT END

The owl, blending with the night, perches
Upon the church’s steeple;
Watching, waiting for the quiet whisper of what might be food.

In the distance, across the dark field, he can see
A hint of something small and brown
And so parting with its post, he glides towards his prey.

He cuts through the air, a miniature stealth bomber,
Nearing its helpless target.
After but a few seconds, he swoops in and strikes silently

A mouse that never saw it coming.

Joy Gong // THE CAMPGROUND

Pitter patter,
Pitter patter:
The soft tap of rain down the car windows
Accompanies this sticky summer Saturday of June.
Soon Mom turns left off of Cedar Street and
Pulls into a clearing enveloped by pine trees,
Five, ten miles from the nearest supermarket.
A site so secluded even the GPS
Can’t seem to find it;
A place almost abandoned with
Soiled showers and murmuring mosquitoes;
A sector hidden from plain sight
Silent because we are the only ones there.
But our annual trip still
Sparks joy in my mind,
A thrill of adventure down my spine.
As night creeps into the open ceiling and
Paints the sky a deep sapphire blue,
Stars twinkle like tiny diamonds;
Telling stories in the blank canvas of the dark
As we tell stories of our own around a crackling fire.
Knowing the trip will be over too soon, too early
We gently toast marshmallows until just barely charred,
Savoring the sweet essence of simply being.

Waka Okuda // A BEE’S ARIA

The freshly risen sun smiles
Upon the dewy morning grass.
Soft light,
Gentle and warm,
Floods the field.
A quiet, yet musical
Hum
May be observed…

(but only if you wish to hear it.)

You must poise your ear
And your mind,
Completely
Still.
If you wish to hear the serenade,
The opera,
The shining solo star,
Of the meadow.

Matteo Arshad // PEAKS ISLAND

A strip of powdery sediment on the Northern side,
Where the bay’s gentle waves are embraced;
A barricade of rocks along the Southern,
The relentless Atlantic, pounding, pounding.

Children skipping, buckets clanking,
Rushing to the sandy shore.

Colorful crystals clinking in the pockets of collectors,
Their edges softened by the swirling sea and sand;
Younger children clustering around collapsing sand palaces,
Others out splashing in the shimmering waters.

Parents packing, children slumping,
Trekking back to the comforting cottage.

The shore quiets,
Lapping waves fill the silence;
The day’s final light casts its glow,
Painting the sky a warm peachy pink.

An oasis in a vast expanse of blue.

Reed Solomon // THE WOODS

The wind whispers on the leaves turned brown,
It’s in these woods that time slows down.
The satisfying snap of twigs underfoot,
Getting tired, the hikers decide to stay put.

As the sun sets and the temperature drops,
The conversation between the squirrels stops.
Meals are pulled out of bags and water begins to boil,
The boys sit down on logs, rocks, and soil.
Elsewhere in the world, the night has just begun,
But here the hikers get ready for bed, thinking of tomorrow’s fun.
Clothes are changed, teeth are brushed, and tents zipped up,
In the morning, we’ll eat oatmeal out of the packet, no cup!

All of a sudden, the world outside the tent is light,
The boys rub their eyes as the birds resume their fight.
In a matter of minutes, bags become fully packed,
Today will be the best day yet, that is a sure fact!
“Listen to nature,” and the boys halt their talk,
They set forth on their journey, and begin to walk.

Bianca S. // A SUMMER DAY IN TUSCANY

The golden sea of grain
Sways slightly in the breeze
Small ruby-red poppies peeking through the stalks

The song of the cicadas
Their cacophony of love
Buzzing insects adding their sonorous voices to the mix

The lovely fragrances
Of geraniums, lavender, hibiscus
Add to the warm pleasant smell of hay and drying grass

The balmy gusts of wind
Caress me as they pass
Tall grasses tickling my skin as I wade through

Everything is perfect.

The best sensation of all, however
Is not a sight, sound, smell, or touch
But the glorious taste of gelato melting on my tongue

Luke Mager // RIVERSIDE

As I walk by the riverside
Ripples disturb the water
Fish swim up the stream
Fighting against the flow

Ripples disturb the water
Struggling to their destination
Fighting against the flowing toTry
In there watery world

Struggling to their destination
Gills pumping
In there watery world
Pebbles glisten

Gills pumping
steady as the stream
Pebbles glisten
The water flows with no sound

Steady as the stream
fish swim up the stream
The water flows with no sound
As I walk by the riverside