YWP Content Published in Newspapers

Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.


Dec 16
poem 0 comments challenge: Snow
Darth Nyan's picture

My Vermont

Pitch black but for the moon
Cold, silver light reflects on the field
That is now a white waste.

I exhale.
My breath becomes the only cloud in this
Otherwise clear night.

The big dipper glows brightly,
As if to say:
“Follow, and ye shall freeze.”

But I do not heed its warning
And I follow it across the field
To a cabin with an orange glow
And firewood piled high

This is my home
My womb and my tomb
This is my Vermont
Dec 15

Kindred Soul

golden light slipping, dancing through your fingers
a halo of sunlight
the soft padding of feet early in the morning
slouch your back
into the warm dependable shoulder
that's never more than an arm's length away
laughter bubbling out of the fountain of joy
that is seemingly endless
tears sometimes fall, but what of it?
i know they will fade quickly and without a trace
flushed cheeks and a red nose
an anchor, teasing eyes and peeling plaster
a kindred soul in a meaningless world

Dec 10
Anne with an 'e''s picture

I Have Proven

I finally taste a lick of success,
a pinch of pride, 
but you are just one step ahead,
waiting to make my tongue taste
bitter and fuzzy.

I have my arms outstretched,
as happiness and joy blow through 
my hair like a wind gust on the highest
but you are there to turn my gust of joy
into a tempest of pain. 

I finally feel like one whole piece again,
like one united front standing against
a whirlwind of waves,
but you are there to 
drown me in salty water. 

Now I must rebuild,
and I think you should watch me.

Watch me make a better,
stronger dam.
Watch me summit
new mountaintops,
and feel stronger
gusts of joy, of pride.
The truth is,
I do not fear you.
I welcome you.
Your judgments
and criticism,
your disrespect,
well they just
give me one more chance
to show the world why 
Dec 10
ZAP's picture

an eerie, haunting melody in the night

An eerie, haunting melody in the night
Dec 10
poem 1 comment challenge: Snow
Emma Colby's picture

Snow on the Mountain

The old chairlift creaked and swayed gently
as the crisp morning flurries nipped at the rosy, red cheeks of the young girl.
Her grandmother sat to the left and her grandfather to the right.
Both of them had their arms wrapped tightly around her, attempting to keep her warm.
They sat in silence and watched the mountain grow in front of them.
The bright sun illuminated every aspect: the smooth coating of ice that clung to the trees,
and the conformity of every neatly groomed trail.
The previous snow had left a fresh layer of powder
that wordlessly begged them to disrupt its purity.
At the peak, they looked down and out over
the mountain, the town, and the valley that seemed to stretch on forever.  
The sky taunted them, dangling just out of reach,
and the overwhelming panorama reminded them how small they were
—even at the highest points.  
Dec 08

Clear Sky Night

It's rare to have clear skys in winter; white sheets of cloud blanket the sky almost every day.
At night, the atmosphere looks like those in stop-motion Christmas specials.
The moonlight dances over the snow making a silk painting, but cameras seem to ignore the moonlight's presence and the images appear to be taken through a dark woolen blanket.
When fog rolls around the moon, every dormant tree appears gnarly and disfigured, outlined in the hazy light.
At dawn, the snow reflects a pale violet light, a pleasant sight for a kid standing at their bus stop, blowing out frosty breaths of air, waiting for the bus to appear.
Dec 08
hannah.banana23's picture

the sound in the night

I shiver as I walk over to the DiMarco's house. They've asked me to babysit their two kids, Roman and Evelyn, while they go out to dinner and a movie. I've babysat the kids before, so I'm not nervous. Evelyn's eight and Roman's six. They are super cute and fun to play with. When I arrive at their house, I knock on the door. Evelyn opens the door and runs into my arms when she sees me. "Hi Ella!" "Hi Ev," I say, laughing as she squeezes me tight. As I unwrap my scarf and take off my coat, Mrs. DiMarco sees me. "Oh, hi Ella. We're so glad you could come." "Me too," I say. "I love babysitting Ev and Roman." "They love you too! As usual, the emergency numbers are on the fridge, I warmed up some lasanga for dinner, and they should be in bed by 8:30," says Mrs. DiMarco. "Oh, and please call me Kylie." "Ok, thank you Kylie. They'll be in good hands, I promise," I tell her. We wave goodbye as they hop in their car and drive away.
Dec 07
AboutToSnap's picture


Dec 07
poem 2 comments challenge: Power
Mackenzie 101's picture

Power of Kindness

Power is an interesting word,
It has lots of meaning to it.
For example, someone has the power to become president,
But a car has the power to drive thousands of miles.
Just like an athlete has the power to achieve greatness,
And people have the power to do good in this world.
We either use or abuse power.
If superpowers were granted to 7.6 billion people,
People would either take advantage of their powers,
Or be creative with them.
But the best use of power comes from within.
It would be in the world’s best interest to choose a meaningful power.
Sure, people could choose to fly, be invisible, or even read people's mind,
But others may choose to be able to walk, talk, hear, or even smell.
I would choose the power of kindness.
You never know when someone's having a bad day,
Or their life is a complete mess at the moment.
If we’re being honest with ourselves,
All we ever try to be is perfect,
Dec 05
fiction 0 comments challenge: Trees
m.fredella's picture

Dancing Trees

Limb to limb

Arm to arm

The secret whispering of leaves between two old friends

The whistle of wind blowing through splayed branches

Branches that sway in time to inaudible music

Clawed wooden hands reaching up to the ever changing sky

Roaming roots ripping from the damp soil

A strange rhythm of the woods

Oh, what a strange sight

Dancing trees, moving to a silent beat

Oh, what a strange sound

Singing trees, chanting a silent melody

Oh, what a strange experience

A tree party