Words

Words

Words drift by me, leading up to the great night sky. I watch them, all spiraling from an open book. The book has a sort of magic coming from it, an essence. I walk toward the book and hold out my hand above it. In my palm appears a word. Curious. I smile, and the word changes to Charmed. I watch as those two words come from the book and float up, spiraling in the river of words. I hold my hands over the book again, and a new word pops into existence. Homesick. I frown, as it sinks in. Through the light. I stare at the words dancing on my fingertips. I look to my side to find a door-sized beam of light. I look back at my hands to find another word. Doubt. I close my eyes, knowing it's true. Brave? A question mark? That is unusual. Unless... I stand up, knees shaky. Nervous. I slowly walk towards the door. Afraid. I'm right in front of the door. Confronting. I walk through the light. Brave.

origami5432

VT

14 years old

abigail_and_bean

VT

13 years old

The Voice

May 2024

  • Spring Contest Winners

    Congratulations to the winners of our Spring 2024 Writing and Art Contest! Three writers and three visual artists have each been awarded $100, and their outstanding work is published in this issue of ...

  • To Be A Poem

    If to be a sonnet is to be vain, then to be a sonnet is to be a friend. If to be a limerick is to be laughed at, then to be a limerick is to be a child. If to be a haiku is to be unnoticed, then to be...

  • Sunflower

    I'd like to say: You cannot know, unless you live it. You cannot understand, without experience. I do not understand, nor do I know, what it is like to live in a war zone. But I have seen its impact o...

  • Lullaby

    Carried by the songbird’s wings Through forests bright, caverns dim, Flying in the wild wind. Tears have been shed and goodbyes have been said And the light is leaving from your eyes. Dew drops on th...

  • My Dearest Maria

    The house was empty without her. The kitchen was robbed of laughter. Our room had stolen comfort. Nothing was the same. She was my everything. My flower, my Maria; how do you expect a man to live his ...

  • Words

    Words drift by me, leading up to the great night sky. I watch them, all spiraling from an open book. The book has a sort of magic coming from it, an essence. I walk toward the book and hold out my han...

  • January Loves April

    January loves April, her silken white dress with its icy tint of blue sinking into April’s lime green skirt, buds and baby leaves rupturing its stitches, their hair – one long, whitish blonde tippe...

  • Counting to 17

    When I turned 17, it was synonymous with the beginning of the end. It felt like landing in the jaws of a hungry, hungry wolf that would maul me to pieces. I am not one who fears many things, but the ...

  • Mourning Crow

    Crow, past my window, where do you fly to on this beautiful morning? Let us brew some mid-day coffee and nightly tea. Bring me to your nest and hear the early peepers sing with your cousins. Resolutio...

  • We've Built the Beautiful

    We've built the beautiful places through disaster and heartbreak and luck and romance. From the roots up, we've rocked the rocks, and moved the Earth. We've felt it all;through the pain and hate a...

  • Mauve

    Mauve is the lipstick we stole from your mother, smeared sideways across your mouth and all over your Sprite bottle, a clandestine weight in your pocket as we hurried home across the dew-slick grass....

  • Woodland Grove

    And your dark, knotted hair falls, trailing along and settling in the crevice of collarbone, ravine of spine, and depth of heart. Curling like the faintest of...

  • Before

    Before we wake, we are huddled under blankets and dreaming. Before we wake there are others living, breathing, chirping, growing. Before we wake the ocean's waves soak its rocky beaches. Before we ...

  • Compose

    In the wrestling match, my knees buckled, A staccato burst of defeat, Feeling out of control, angry, a cacophony. But then, ukulele strings under my fingers, Offered a universe I commanded, Composed o...

  • Red Clover

    I dream of him less than I used to – But our story always starts the same. I am small, and his oil-stained hands hold me like the Red Clover, So tightly that I think he’ll never let me go. And he tell...

  • Poetry

    By LL

    Good Years

    Dad is a collector of rainbows, Pictures taken to capture and frame A small wonder performed on the world. He says it’s like saving up luck in our lives. Seven rainbows held in his hand, preciously ...

  • It's late again

    It's later than I thought, half past 11. YouTube K-pop Reactions It's later than I thought, half past 12. Does he love me? Should I change? Why do I do this to myself? It's later than I thought, half...

  • Pluvia

    Time seems to move slower when it rains Cars hesitate before they turn Bird wings lag as raindrops batter their feathers The world seems small and heavy Murky puddles are dumbbells on Earth's surface ...

  • Cardinal

    I saw you today, Dressed in the prettiest red dress to ever be sewn, Wearing the cat eye mascara you always have. Your hair waved to me as you flew past. I swear I saw you wink. I remember You would...