I was Born on a 4 Square Foot Houseboat
by: Fiona P. ’26
I was born on a 4 square foot houseboat off
the coast of Java
I grew up on the foothills of Cambodia
I was born all grown up
My mother had a braid as long as her memory
She wrapped me in her hair,
cut it off,
Her hair was healing
It gave me death
So I could live
I Have Powers
by: Keira P. ’26
I have powers, powers that no
one can see, a power too strong
to describe, this power is me
I like me.
I am an apple
by: Juno Y. ’26
I am an apple. A worm bites through me and I die.
I am an orange. My skin is peeled off and I die.
I am a lemon. My innards are squeezed out and I die.
I am a kiwi. I am sliced in half and I die.
I am a blue raspberry. I am crushed and I die.
I am a blueberry. A thumb squishes me and I die.
I am a grape. My heart is pulled out and I die for the final time.
by: Afsana D. ’23
This salty, vast, expanse
That’s all many knew.
The wind howling,
Waves churning and peaking,
Crashing against the rocks
I stare out at this expanse
As I have been for years
Biting away at my bricks,
I’ve seen things over the decades
People come, people go
Birds make their homes on my head
Over and over again
I lead them home
Lost in the endless
Over the horizon
When the sun is gone
I guide the lost ones
With my light
The salty breeze
The endless blue
All I have known
All I ever will know
The Urchin’s Demise
by: Jad B. ’24
“…winking and glimmering under the setting sun.”
— John Steinbeck
Waves crashed over the sandy beach.
Salty water washed away seashells.
The boy sat with feet dangling from the wall.
He was not alone in wondering.
A tiny sea urchin drifted up besides him, small as a pebble.
As tiny as the slowly fading sun.
His eyes were bright, a light yellow like the rays of the sun.
Footprints strewn across the beach.
The ripples on the coast caused by skipping stones, flat pebbles.
Sharp edges and broken seashells.
The boy sat deeply in thought, wondering.
Pressed in his thighs was the cold edge of the sea wall.
Reflected light glinted off of the wall.
The boy sat, gazing at the sun.
Always wondered where he came from, sadly wondering.
He had no memories, but he could remember the beach.
He always felt at home, among animals and seashells.
The sky turned black, making him feel small as a pebble.
The boy picked up a small stone, a sturdy pebble.
Flung it as hard as he could at the wall.
It cracked in half. Smack! scattered across the seashells.
Dark clouds arrived, replacing the sun
Droplets of rain began spattering the beach.
He hid in an alcove in the seawall, still wondering.
Ever the curious one, he began wondering.
Maybe the urchin had been wiped out by a pebble.
Maybe caught in a stream, and swept off of the beach.
Had it gotten lucky and latched onto the sturdy wall?
The winds picked up, and he got a glimpse of the sun
Returning rays cast an eerie glow over the seashells.
He spotted the urchin’s body among the seashells
This put an end to his wishful wondering.
Its spindly legs shined in the light of the sun
Laying next to the cracked pebble
The boy watched from the safety of the wall
As the urchin’s soul ascended from the beach.
The orange glow of the sun illuminated the seashells
He slept on the beach, his dreams aiding him in wondering
A small pebble embedded in the expanse of the wall.