Aerie:

Flashback

Letter from the Editor

Dear Reader,

We proudly present Aerie 2020: Flashback to your screens! Inside the magazine, you will find pieces submitted from past issues of Aerie. We hope that when you ‘flashback’ you find that high school students aren't all that different today.

I would love to say thank you to everyone who submitted their pieces for this year's special edition of Aerie. We enjoy reading and analyzing the submissions we collect and it’s no doubt my favorite part about Aerie. I’m proud of our hard working staff and dedicated group of editors that made this magazine come to life. Sophia Toth and Madison Thorn came to the rescue during our layout process and made the pages look beautiful! I’m so happy with how the 2020 Aerie staff came up with such a clever theme and so many creative ways to incorporate it into the magazine.

Huge thanks to Mrs. Bruzzese, because without her, this magazine wouldn't be possible. She supports us in our craziest endeavors and makes everyone in the class feel included. The Aerie staffers wouldn't be nearly as ‘cute, fun, and friendly’ without her!

Katie Thorn

Editor-in-Chief

Letter from the Advisor

Dear Staff of Aerie,

Every year I am amazed at the Aerie staff who begin with nothing and end with the latest (and always my favorite) issue of Aerie. It isn't often, however, that a group of students comes together to do what you have done this year. (Of course, it isn't often--ever--that a group of students has to deal with a pandemic.)

This year was quite different. Not only did you begin with nothing, but also you didn't even have the knowledge and experience of previous issues to guide you. You had to find and learn a new format. You had to work largely on your own from home. You had to solve your own problems and correct your own missteps. You had to be inventive and creative. You had to lead when I could not. And, not one of you complained. Not once.

You have amazed me with your willingness, effort and ability to re-create Aerie. I am so proud of you. You should be proud of yourselves. You have never been cuter, more fun or friendlier. :)

Thank you for this gift that you have given to Fairmont (and to me). I am grateful.

Very truly yours,

B

Acknowledgements

A huge and heartfelt thank you to the following people for being invaluable in the production of Aerie: Flashback:

Mr. Jared Parker -- For photographing and scanning our art to make it look it's best, even during a pandemic.

Mr. Irwin and Mr. Pupo -- For helping digital Aerie to become a reality this year.

Mr. Phil Thorn -- For providing Aerie with essential technical insights.

The Firebird English Department -- For pushing everything Aerie related.

Lauren Patchett and Shamus Clark -- For designing our beautiful cover and putting up with multiple (multiple) suggestions for revision.

Disclaimer


Words hold tremendous power. They possess the ability to start and end wars and eras. They make us laugh and cry; by them we fall in love or out of it again. Words illustrate the way we live. Sometimes, we live beautiful, eloquent, grammatically correct lives. Other times we live roughly with a little more crassness and a little less punctuation. Nonetheless, we live and communicate through the words we share with the world.

Aerie represents the power of words. Within this publication, you will find the silliness, anger, passion, joy, sorrow, and most importantly the talent of Fairmont students. The emotions expressed in Aerie are not intended to reflect the views of the Fairmont High School staff. They are simply intended to move you, our readers, and to help you see the world through a different lens. The grammatical structure within these works is as they were submitted to us; perhaps with the intent to evoke emotion, despite proper grammar rules.

With that in mind, go ahead. Read on. Be awed by the power of words.


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Authors & Artists in Order of Appearance

Jessica Pierce -- chair

Michael Breslin -- I AM SITTING IN A ROOM FAR AWAY

Leah Lambert -- Butterfly

Chenyan Zhu -- Spring

Taylor Olshove -- Water Drop Photography

Ashleigh Worley -- My heart is a forest. You are the spark.

Allison Folkerth -- Fall (2019)

Howling Quadruped -- Fall (2010)

Caitlyn Wilgus -- Untitled

Sophia Roy -- Firebreather

Mrs. Emily Bruzzese -- Breakfast For One

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- I find you

Mr. Tim Guindon -- Desmos Art

Mr. Jon Cridge -- Losing in Order to Win: A Parrondo Paradox

Anonymous -- Lost in Their Thoughts

Sam Callinan -- Time Slowed in a Fast Moving Society

Leah Lambert -- Bunch O' Flowers

Lada Gallant -- I went for a walk

Amilee Boston -- Untitled

Sam Callinan -- Stopping Traffic

Mrs. Amy Webb -- The Rush

Val Kronson -- Storm (2016)

Molly Mitchell -- Untitled

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- Social Dance

Bailey Atkinson -- Limbo

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- Love

Jessica Pierce -- Untitled

Madison Thorn -- Blueberry

Sophia Toth -- fresa

Gabe Stone -- Untitled

Thomas G. Harner -- The Old Man

Sofia Brandt -- Untitled

Isabella Drozd -- Intimacy

Oliver Santos -- Weighted

Collin Thomas -- Oblivion

Madison Thorn -- Ode to The Cool Blue Sea

Sophia Toth -- whale

Anthony San Martin -- Nature Double Exposure

David Slivinski -- Another World

Anthony San Martin -- Glass Bottles

Amilee Boston -- Untitled

Olivia Rose -- Marvelous Metal

Renee -- My Rose

Sam Callinan -- Half Face

Katelyn Grosshart -- Shadow Over The Moon

Isabelle Wiedenheft -- Fly Me To The Moon

Allison Folkerth -- Granny Candy

Love Nyumah -- How to Get Away With Murder

Madison Thorn -- Hello?

Love Nyumah -- Parking Lot

Sophia Toth -- Dig a Little Deeper

Ellie Lehman -- Brokenly Complete

Olivia Rose -- Ode To Mr. Rogers

Mr. Blair Albright -- Die Like a Dog

Ms. Kelsey Mann -- When We Sold Our Home

John Gaeke -- American Classic

Sophia Toth -- long

Kelli Slivinski -- Untitled

James Sharpe -- Echoes

Sophia Toth -- Soldier

Mr. Blair Albright -- Aspiring To Inspire: The Life and Legacy of Kobe Bryant

Mia Howard -- Untitled

Shelby Wedderburn -- Untitled

Ms. Kelsey Mann -- How to Survive a Minimum Wage Restaurant Job

Jessica Pierce -- Untitled

Madison Thorn -- Untitled

Mr. Ryan Lamb -- Why, Arveragus, Why?: True Knightly Behavior in "The Franklin's Tale"

Amilee Boston -- Untitled

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- The Wanderer

Sarah Allen -- Lesbian

Madison Thorn -- Untitled

Hayden Sprance -- Untitled

Sophia Toth -- Within the Castle Walls

Jessica Pierce -- Cotton

Joshua Copley -- Adventure Awaits

Michaela Brannan -- Walking on Water

Katelyn Grosshart -- Experiment

Olivia Rose -- It

Anonymous -- "Other Girls" (2018)

Anonymous -- Girls

Ellen Jones -- Kaleidoscope Eyes

Ellen Jones -- Askew

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- Carpe Diem

Payton Probasco -- Peace

Jessica Pierce -- Sporks

Olivia Rose -- Hairbrush

Caden Sloan -- A thousand bucks

Amilee Boston -- Untitled

Love Nyumah -- Balloon Boy

MaKenna Ansley -- Untitled

Mrs. Emily Bruzzese -- Green In Nature (2010)

Megan Bingamon -- Hidden City

Ms. Juliet MonBeck -- Canis lupus familiaris

Olivia Rose -- Untitled

Mrs. Amy Webb -- The Twenty-Fourth Floor

Autumn Huelsman -- Mischievous Lights

Fabrice Uwihirwe -- Meaningful Glances

Noah Lovely -- The Licc

Charlotte Nieberding -- Homecoming

Isabella Richardson -- Lost in the Lights

Grady Cokins -- Untitled

Jessica Pierce -- Angel

Anonymous -- PTSD

Ian McCall -- In the Still of the Night

Ms. Rebecca Riffle -- Cotidie: Every Day

Allison Folkerth -- There Was a Man in My Fridge

Lauren Miles -- When I Was Your Age... (2016)

Chad Pope -- Cycles (1990)

chair

Jessica Pierce

I AM SITTING IN A ROOM FAR AWAY:

Michael Breslin

I am sitting in a room far away. My hands are empty, and sitting on my knees with the palms turned toward the ceiling. Wind cools the tears that roll down the sides of my cheeks as they meet at my chin. I heard it once. Just one call and then... deafening silence. I can feel the same air pulling and tugging in and out of my lungs. I didn’t see it but I heard it cry out. It had been quiet for so long that I urinated on my pants when it broke through the air. My eyelashes struggled to pull themselves apart as I stretched out my hands toward the sound. A moan tore out from my throat as I tried to cry out. My eyes adjusted to light as I looked around deliriously. Woozy from standing up too quickly I stumbled back, tripped, and felt my head slam into the concrete wall. Blood sank deep into the wall as my body slid to the floor. Looking at the ceiling now I can remember exactly what it felt like. The feeling of something tearing through the air. I remember the way it hurt my arms. The way it made every hair inside my ear arch and sway. I am sitting in a room far away. I am not waiting for anything because nothing is going to come. Nothing was ever here.


Butterfly

Leah Lambert

Spring

Chenyan Zhu

Spring breath wheezes

As summer heat freezes

Winter weather has gone away

Falling leaves of trembling fall

Have sprung back to the balded tree

In my family, I have a tree

A mother

A father

A brother and

Two sisters

We’re all a family in the branch of the tree

Our lives spring out through the branches

My brother’s a bulb in the tree trunk spikes

My father is the trunk

As my mother is the leaves

My sisters are twigs in the widened tree

Flowers far and wide

Upon their future lives

I’m just a rotten branch upon a thousand dead birds

My spikes are long and too thick to cut

I have no luck for there is no sun to shine

My branch is torn and curved in pieces

I wish it would just fall to the ground of green

The green bright grass where they all lay

Where they all stood upon the dead of the dead

Where life is endless

Where air is thick

Where no sounds pass but our souls in distress

I wish I would just fall upon that breeding tree

I wish to give more to those who needs it

I wish to fall from that tree

Allowing my brother to bloom as bright as the flowers

Where his branch will reach up to the sky where mine could not

I wish my sisters to have their space

When this branch falls they’ll have their room

Water Drop Photography

Taylor Olshove

My heart is a forest. You are the spark.

Ashleigh Worley

Copy of Worley, Ashleigh: "My heart is a forest. You are the spark."

Click to open in a new tab.

Fall

Allison Folkerth (Aerie 2019)

Copy of Folkerth, Allison: "Fall" (2019)

Fall

Howling Quadruped (Aerie 2010)

Copy of Quadruped, Howling: "Fall" (2010)

Click to open in a new tab.

Untitled

Caitlyn Wilgus

Firebreather

Sophia Roy

Breakfast for One

Mrs. Emily Bruzzese

I find you

Fabrice Uwihirwe

I find you

embedded in concepts

of happiness and everlasting romance

maybe

because we never had them

I find you

in bittersweet songs

about heartbreak and broken promises

at least

we had those

I find you

absent from my side

walking away as

amorphous figures

form and hold you close

and years later

I wonder

if you ever look back

Desmos Art

Mr. Tim Guindon

Losing in Order to Win: A Parrondo Paradox

Mr. Jon Cridge

Copy of Cridge, Mr. Jon: "Losing in Order to Win: A Parrondo Paradox"

Lost in Their Thoughts

Anonymous

Have you ever been taking a test, and you’re so in your head you forget time is passing? The room is so still yet your brain has so much going on. Whether it's math and you feel like equations are being scribbled in the air above your head, or it’s a timed write and the narrative of your essay is like a movie scene playing out in your mind.

Sometimes, when I am testing, reading, or writing a timed essay and everyone in the class is in their thoughts, I like to imagine those white, cloud-like thought bubbles over everyone’s head. I see my classmates in those thought bubbles, talking to themselves, acting out Hamlet, or picturing that one problem on the study sheet they’re forgetting. I become amazed at how many thoughts there are floating around the room, how loud the thoughts are, yet the room is silent.

There’s a weird feeling you get when everyone around you is so focused on something and you’re not a part of that trance-like state. It’s as if time is paused; it almost feels like a movie. But sometimes you’re part of the focus, and maybe someone’s looking at you, imagining your thoughts above your head. Seeing you present your argument to why Daisy is responsible for Gatsby’s death, plotting points on a graph, or reading about taking a test and forgetting time is passing.


Time Slowed in a Fast Moving Society

Sam Callinan

Bunch O' Flowers

Leah Lambert



I went for a walk

Lada Gallant

I went for a walk,

I am very muddy now

Earth, take your dirt back



Untitled

Amilee Boston

Stopping Traffic

Sam Callinan

The Rush

Mrs. Amy Webb

Copy of Webb, Mrs. Amy: "The Rush"

Storm

Val Kronson (Aerie 2016)

Copy of Kronson, Val: "Storm" (2016)

Click to open in a new tab.

Untitled

Molly Mitchell

Social Dance

Fabrice Uwihirwe

I’ve become adept at this social dance

Flash a smile, a few nods and a glance

To convey I’m comfortable, at ease,

and spreading joy around like a disease

Hang with the right crowds to blend in,

Snapping pics of this world I fit well in

Always showing my good side, since I

Can never know whose piercing eye

is attempting to steal a quick look

Into the messy pages of my closed book

full of betrayal, grudges, and treachery,

Baggage I want existing only in memory

Similar baggage that others possess

But also hide by giving smiles in excess

So we revert back to our ruse, hence

We’re stuck, forever, in this social dance


Limbo

Bailey Atkinson

Love

Fabrice Uwihirwe

Moon’s pull

Waning tides

Puppet strings

My identity dies


Why do we search

For such complexity

When all it does is

Take what’s left of me


I’m pulled towards you

like high tides at noon

and I come crashing

down just as soon


I’m pulled towards you

like a ventriloquist’s doll,

for the strings of affection

move me whenever you call


Why do we search

For such complexity

When all it does is

Take what’s left of me


Love.








Untitled

Jessica Pierce

Blueberry

Madison Thorn

Blueberry

Sweet and tangy,

A bite on your tongue.

A delicious flavor,

In memories, so young.

In muffins and tarts,

“Eat these, you'll be smart”.

Warm and gooey

Or cold and chewy.

Good for breakfast and dessert,

Try just one, I promise it won't hurt.

You'll be obsessed,

They are the best.

Blueberry, oh blueberry,

My love for you, it will never vary.


fresa

Sophia Toth

Untitled

Gabe Stone

The Old Man

Thomas G. Harner

He lit his little cigarette,

Lips curled and eyes focused

On the dull waves whooshing forwards.

I had never met this man before:

A brown bomber jacket

Worn out Cincinnati Reds hat

And a sulky beard white as the ice caps.

I asked in my tedium,

“Why do you bother living now?”

Ruthlessly I asked.

The old man looked down

At his footprints on the beach

Flooded and smudged they were.

He glanced back at my face and said—

“Every single morning I wake up,

Eat breakfast

Comb my hair

Turn on the radio

And listen to the Cincinnati Reds coverage.

On game days I keep a keen ear.

When they don’t play, I smoke on the porch.

Is that good enough?”

Then he flew his cigarette into the ocean

To be washed away like a useless memory.





Untitled

Sofia Brandt

Intimacy

Isabella Drozd

You guide me into your bedroom

and kiss my lips softly

whispering “I love you” while

You lay your hands on my hips.

Your eyes undress me

before your hands get a chance.

I am now naked in front of you.

Vulnerable.

Shy.

You pick me up in your arms

at first glance.

Your hands begin to admire what your eyes

couldn’t see.

You told me you wouldn’t want to be anywhere

else but with me.

The blanket is cascaded over us.

Your long arm is draped over my waist.

The blue light from the television illuminates

the dark bedroom.

You kiss the back of my shoulder and tell me

You love me one more time before we both

Slip into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I wake up

cold in my own bed.



Weighted

Oliver Santos

Oblivion

A One-Act Play

Collin Thomas

Copy of Thomas, Collin: "Oblivion"

Click to open in a new tab.

Ode to the Cool Blue Sea

Madison Thorn

Copy of Thorn, Madison: "Ode to the Cool Blue Sea"

whale

Sophia Toth

Copy of Toth, Sophia: "whale"

Click to open in a new tab.

Nature Double Exposure

Anthony San Martin

Another World

David Slivinski




Glass Bottles

Anthony San Martin





Untitled

Amilee Boston

Marvelous Metal

Olivia Rose

Death, screamo, glam, and thrash,

All categories of metal.

With rough, screechy, yelling voices

That sound like a stinging nettle.

All about Nazis, death, and Satan,

Their songs filled with hate.

“Turn it off!” they yell,

But they underestimate

The feelings inside

That only metal brings.

Yo-Yo Ma can’t compete

With his puny little strings.

It gets rooted in your heart

And makes you wanna shout.

They can hate all they want.

Metal will never die out.

My Rose

Renee

In thine eyes, the burning blaze,

The one that averts my heeding gaze.

One can linger in thy maze,

The one that is my rose.


In thy smile, I find the moon,

Fair as snow, yet warm as June.

Exchange of rain for flowers' bloom,

The one that is my rose.


Tranquil storm in longing night,

Shallow plash of blue ignite.

Light thine candle, burning bright,

The one that is my rose.


Grace of silk, touch of Thor,

Guardian of forever yore,

Dance along the winding shore,

The one that is my rose.


Half Face

Sam Callinan


Shadow Over the Moon

Katelyn Grosshart

Fly Me To The Moon

Isabelle Wiedenheft

Copy of Wiedenheft, Isabelle: "Fly Me To The Moon"

Click to open in a new tab.

Granny Candy

Allison Folkerth

Copy of Folkerth, Allison: "Granny Candy"

Click to open in a new tab.

.

How to Get Away With Murder

Love Nyumah

Night falls with the blood

Hide the body, grind the bones

Move quick, they are near

Hello?

Madison Thorn



Parking Lot

Love Nyumah

Dig a Little Deeper: Sestina

Sophia Toth

for Ellie

Note: A sestina is a poetic form with six stanzas of six lines each and a final triplet, all stanzas having the same six words at the end of each line in six different sequences that follow a fixed pattern.

Copy of Toth, Sophia: "Dig a Little Deeper: Sestina"

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Brokenly Complete

Ellie Lehman

Ode to Mr. Rogers

Olivia Rose

How wonderful it is to have a neighbor

Who returns to me day after day,

Like worms wriggling on the sidewalk

After a long summer rain.

It’s a guarantee they’ll be there,

Waiting for my smiling face to greet them.

From your shoes to your sweater,

Your songs to your smiles,

You filled my heart with hope and joy.

Even though I’m seventeen

And you have been gone for a while,

I still look back on the memories you gave me,

And I know things will turn out alright.

You taught me to cry when things got bad,

To pound some clay when I was mad,

That my parents love me, although they’re separated,

To love everyone, even if they’re different,

And to always feed your fish.

You stood like a king in our fondest dreams.

Your royal subjects were puppets

And your horse and carriage, a trolley.

Now I help others to grow

And defend what I know is just.

I loved you, then and now, with my entire heart,

And I knew you loved me back.

Die Like a Dog

Mr. Blair Albright

Copy of Albright, Mr. Blair: "Die Like a Dog"

Click to open in a new tab.

When We Sold Our Home

Ms. Kelsey Mann

Based on the poem "When We Sold the Tent" by Rhina P. Espaillat

When my parents sold our house

we gave away the backyard campouts

big blankets under a bigger tree under the biggest blanket of stars,

smell of grass all around

sounds of the creek swishing nearby.


We let them have the mismatched kitchen

whose cabinets were first peach

then blue

then white,

the floor with the jagged marks

from too-playful dog nails and the verboten roller skates.


Long, arching driveway,

perfect for giving yourself an edge over the competition in bike races,

where neighborhood kids would find their marks and get set.

The times we saw deer and coyotes and rabbits trample their way through the lawn

to pause for a moment at the mouth of the driveway and stare,

looking for a clear sign of direction for where to adventure.


Eyes like moons when my mother,

the visionary,

painted over the wood paneling “marigold”,

a color we said was rejected from McDonalds

for being too much “mustard”, not enough “golden arches”.

She tried her best to spruce up that little ranch to make it something sustainable,

the outcome distressing, her efforts valiant.

American Classic

John Gaeke

long

Sophia Toth


Untitled

Kelli Slivinski


Echoes

James Sharpe

Soldier

Sophia Toth

Copy of Toth, Sophia: "Soldier"

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Aspiring to Inspire: The Life and Legacy of Kobe Bryant

Mr. Blair Albright

Copy of Albright, Mr. Blair: "Aspiring to Inspire: The Life and Legacy of Kobe Bryant"

Click to open in a new tab.

Untitled

Mia Howard



Untitled

Shelby Wedderburn

How to Survive a Minimum Wage Restaurant Job

Ms. Kelsey Mann

Copy of Mann, Ms. Kelsey: "How to Survive a Minimum Wage Restaurant Job"

Click to open in a new tab.

Untitled

Jessica Pierce

Untitled

Madison Thorn

Why, Arveragus, Why?:

True Knightly Behavior in "The Franklin's Tale"

Mr. Ryan Lamb

Copy of Lamb, Mr. Ryan: "Why, Arveragus, Why?: True Knightly Behavior in 'The Franklin's Tale'"

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Untitled

Amilee Boston

The Wanderer

Fabrice Uwihirwe

I feel like

I have no purpose,

which could explain my slow gait,

unhurried

and lacking direction

while everyone rushes about

with purpose;

father, mothers,

lovers,

siblings,

promises, and dreams

strengthen the resolve of their walk

while mine

lacks conviction



Lesbian

A One-Act Play

Sarah Allen

Copy of Allen, Sarah: "Lesbian"

Click to open in new tab.

Untitled

Madison Thorn

Untitled

Hayden Sprance

I am a broken birdcage.

My bones are rusted and twisted

Into a grotesque shadow of my youth.

Tendons twist and curve,

Shaping the outline of my body

As they draw attention to the infinitesimal details

No one but I would notice.


It seems as if this is the only outcome imaginable.

Compressed lungs

And strangled ribs struggle to breathe

As they ache for a better life

Under the pressure of a thousand years.


One day I will breathe freely.

Untethered from the chains of my captor.

One day,

Their violence and hateful speech

Will no longer taint

My pristine birdcage.


I am my own unavoidable sin.

Dirty and adulterated.

Unable to shut out

And hide from the world.


My body was once a birdcage.

My heart fluttered and sang

A song of hope and peace

That led me to unravel the never-ending knot

That is my identity.

Within the Castle Walls

Sophia Toth

Copy of Toth, Sophia: "Within the Castle Walls"

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Cotton

Jessica Pierce

Adventure Awaits

Joshua Copley


Walking on Water

Michaela Brannan

Experiment

Katelyn Grosshart

It

Olivia Rose

It sought refuge in the Pine Barrens

After that fateful day with its mother.

It slaughtered its would-be family

And killed the doctors one after another.

It sprouted horns, hooves, and fangs,

All covered with hair and feathers.

Talons broke through its skin

Along with bat wings made of leather.

Its eyes glowed red, an evil red.

The creature couldn’t be from this world.

It was a demon, the work of the devil,

Come straight from the underworld.

It let out a howl from its snarling face

And flew deep into the night,

But not before some locals caught

A terrifying sight.

One such local was an artist

Who knew what he had to do.

He sat down and drew the thing,

A task no one could outdo.

Three hundred years went by

And the whispers still remain.

The immortal creature in the woods

Still causes the small town strain.

I know it all sounds crazy,

The creature’s validity is unclear.

But if you hear its cry and feel its bite,

It’s the New Jersey Devil my dear.

"Other Girls"

Anonymous (Aerie 2018)

Copy of Anonymous: "'Other Girls'" (Aerie 2018)

Click to open in a new tab.

Girls

Anonymous

A Response to "Other Girls", by Anonymous (Aerie 2018)

Copy of Anonymous: "Girls"




Kaleidoscope Eyes

Ellen Jones

Askew

Ellen Jones

Carpe Diem

Fabrice Uwihirwe

The bird’s calling is soft

and quiet,

familiar to the mornings of the listener;

the moon is long gone,

the stars faded behind the clouds.

The sun embarks on its journey

to the middle of the sky

and will soon descend

to conclude another summer day;

the day lays ahead like an unwritten story,

a cicada’s chirp provides the prologue,

opened eyes the start of the chapter,

and his yawn the first unspoken dialogue

in the novel that was his summer.

The senses kick in,

the bird’s calling is now clear and lucid,

his surroundings come in focus,

and all that’s left now is

to seize the day.




Peace

Payton Probasco







Sporks

Jessica Pierce

Sporks.

The mix between a fork and a spoon,

The catch is: it sucks at being either.

The tines of the spork are too small to pick up things like steak or broccoli.

The spoon portion is too small and shallow for soup or stew.

In the search for efficiency, we found incompetency.

By trying to be two things at once the spork

Became the worst utensil.

Hairbrush

Olivia Rose

My bristles stand alert,

Waiting for her return.

I love the feel of her soft hair

Weaving its way around me,

Like a blanket made of silk.

When a tangle arises,

I take my time to unknot,

Careful not to take any hair with me.

But alas, she’s in a hurry,

And her elegant threads get ripped out,

Coming to stay with me

Until I’m no longer needed.

Maybe one day,

After she’s through,

I could weave a small blanket,

With dust bunnies and split ends,

And I’ll hold it close

And remember her beauty.


A thousand bucks

Caden Sloan

As I ran through the adjacent neighborhoods of my high school on that normal January day,

As I smelled the clean, crisp air of nature,

I turned on the street into Hills & Dales Park

Going from flat, simple asphalt to uneven ground

From dry, open areas to a labyrinth-like trail with roots sticking up out of the ground

I hopped over the narrow, winding creek just like I always had


But then he caught my eye

He had some sort of walking devices, not quite like crutches but close to them

“I’d give a thousand bucks if I could do that!”

He hollered cheerily at my teammates and me

I simply smiled at him

My friends replied with a “yeah” sandwiched between two uncomfortable chuckles


After we’d passed the man, we continued up the hill until he was no longer in sight

Looking back, all I saw were bare trees

Some upright, some that were blown over by the storm the night before

No one said anything about it, there was just typical runners conversation

“How many miles left?”

“What’s our pace?”

“How do your legs feel?”


My first thought was

“Wow, he can move pretty well considering his circumstances”

But then I considered my circumstances

How many people wished they could do something that I didn’t think twice about?



Untitled

Amilee Boston

Balloon Boy

Love Nyumah

Untitled

MaKenna Ansley

Copy of Ansley, MaKenna: "Untitled"

Click to open in a new tab.

Copy of Bruzzese, Mrs. Emily: "Green in Nature"

Green in Nature

Mrs. Emily Bruzzese (Aerie 2010)

Hidden City

Megan Bingamon

Canis lupus familiaris

Ms. Juliet MonBeck

In the dark of night, I open the door of my domicile

To release my descendant of wolves from detention

So that she can cower at the sight of birds, bunnies,

And functionally defenseless marsupials.

Who, in turn, have gotten sassy and intrepid in their incursions.

They needn’t swell their heads over any perceived victory.

The enemy they have vanquished may look like 65 pounds

Of golden-furred, sharp-toothed, evolutionary excellence,

But she is equally terrified of crinkly plastic bags, bouncy balls,

Scooching chairs, and unexpected piles of laundry

As she is of the backyard intruders she was acquired to ward off.


I shoo unwelcome guests away so the predator can spend

The next twenty minutes picking the perfect place to deposit

The remains of organic salmon and wild rice kibble.

I soak an anti-flea pill in bacon grease and say a prayer that

She won’t spit it out like a baby’s first taste of peas.

I clean out her water dish to remove debris and pick up the

Stuffed toys, tennis balls, and displaced socks that litter the den

Before checking calendars to confirm grooming appointments.

Finally, I remove obstacles in the hall so skittishness is avoided

On her way to rest on a mattress developed by NASA

And marvel at how well her species has adapted to its environment.

Untitled

Olivia Rose




The Twenty-Fourth Floor

Mrs. Amy Webb

Copy of Webb, Mrs. Amy: "The Twenty-Fourth Floor"

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Mischievous Lights

Autumn Huelsman

Meaningful Glances

Fabrice Uwihirwe

a few meaningful glances

lead to

a few daytime trances

thinking of the way your

long, coppery-brown hair dances

with each step taken;

these feelings are not those

that are mutual, and it shows

when my eyes linger for more

than a moment trying to bore

into your thoughts, a deliberate

effort intended to hold weight

and allow you to finally see

I am a mess when you give me

those meaningful glances

The Licc

Noah Lovely

Homecoming

Charlotte Nieberding

Copy of Nieberding, Charlotte: "Homecoming"

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Lost in the Lights

Isabella Richardson

Untitled

Grady Cokins

Angel

Jessica Pierce

PTSD

Anonymous

Copy of Anonymous: "PTSD"

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In the Still of the Night

Ian McCall

Cotidie: Every Day

Ms. Rebecca Riffle

Copy of Riffle, Ms. Rebecca: "Cotidie: Every Day"

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Note from Ms. Riffle: I sat down to write and I ended up typing up a kind of transcript of phrases that we often say in my Latin class mixed with my own expressions. This transcript is meaningful to me and possibly to Latin students who hear these phrases often enough to understand without peeking at the English.

There was a man in my fridge

Allison Folkerth

There was a man in my fridge, which you can imagine was a very unwelcome surprise for three in the morning. It was extremely rude of him, appearing in my fridge without a word of warning nor a request of permission. He just showed up out of the blue, staring at me with nasty, beady eyes and a grin filled with crooked teeth. He didn't have a hair on his head, his fingers were far too long, and his clothes were old, stained and nasty. You'd think if a man were to barge into my kitchen, wedge himself into my fridge, spill leftovers all over my shelves and inconvenience me at an extremely unreasonable time, he would at least have the courtesy of being the slightest bit attractive. Yet I wasn't able to deal with him, I was far, far too busy. So, I reached behind him and grabbed an intact Tupperware of last night’s rotini, before closing the door behind me, letting him rot away like all the rest of them seem to. I still have to feed the man locked in my basement, after all.

When I Was Your Age...

Lauren Miles (Aerie 2016)

Copy of Miles, Lauren: "When I was Your Age..."

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Copy of Pope, Chad: "Cycles"

Cycles

Chad Pope (Aerie 1990)