By Hannah Arbuckle
Perched by the pane, you sit
Petrified in stone. Alert, ears up
Overtaken by ferns, you wonder not.
To flesh you are foreign, movement
is a stranger, a foe.
You sit weathering, avoid
of what you represent,
only to the eye you are the hare.
"Nicolet Transfer student. This poem was created in a local coffee shop with ideas powered from a caramel latte."
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“Waiting”
By Evelyn Pritchard
I used to be a little sprout
eager and excited
waiting with anticipation of how the world would be when I got to be a big old tree
now I am a twisted tree barely hanging on
the girl with the dark perspective
now I am the pessimist that this world made me to be
but somewhere deep inside is that eager little sprout waiting for its day to shine waiting in this world
“This poem was one that I was hesitant to turn in. I feel that it is a true expression of who I have become as a person. I know that being as young as I am this should not be so, but I have found that through thick and thin that little sprout from before is still there rooting on the old tree."
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“Auction”
By Darlene Machtan
They came to bid
on pieces of
my father’s hands,
ny mother’s heart.
Only the bitter March wind
that blew them raw
seemed to understand
they had no right.
