The Muse 8.01

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T H E — 8.01 —

M U S E

a m h s l i t e r a r y m a g a z i n e


muse \ ˈmyüz \ noun . a source of inspiration; a state of deep thought or dreamy abstract


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TABLE OF

CONTENTS COVER Dancing Over Coals, Thi Nguyen Letter from the Editors 05 ART Arielle Rizal 02 Human Expression: Depth of Simple Emotions, Jonathan Lin 12 Finger Laces, El Yang 16-17 All Too Well (10 Minute Version), Roanna Pham 20 Hope, Kaylee Wibowo 30 Chickadee, Tvesa Vathulya 42 Prismatic, Tvesa Vathulya 42 Isolation, Emma Pham 48 Red, Saji Paul 52 Sunflower, Saji Paul 53 PHOTOGRAPHY Jackie Ruan 06 | 21 | 46 | 58 | 65 5:16 PM, Ariadine Antonio 07 Amelia Spink 08 | 13 | 54 | 56 | 70 Shadow, Ariadine Antonio 10 Madison Lin 11 | 15 | 31 | 55 | 59 | 66 | 72-73 Ariadine Antonio 18 Melanie Estrada 21 | 36 | 69 Enya Liu 22 | 47 | 67 Anjani Nabar 23 | 33 Juliana Bernal 24 | 49 | 55 | 62 Aquarium, Ariadine Antonio 25 San Luis Obispo, Jackie Ruan 26-27 6:15 AM, Ariadine Antonio 28-29 Concussed, Bridget Juul 32 A Sunset Over the Beautiful Waves, Grace Caradonna 34-35 Henry Amrhein 37 Joey Childs 40-41 | 68 Evening Drive, Sameet Das 44-45 Tahoe Sunset, Sameet Das 49 EJ Brown 56 | 71 Buzz, Issy Oligher 57 French Braid, Thi Nguyen 62 Yucatán Mexico, Jackie Ruan 63 Enchanted Woods, Enya Liu 64

04 05

POETRY 06 Questions, Julia Baust 09 I Am From, Arnav Mishra 12 Reality, Jett Huynh 14 Guilt, Mando Gonzalvez 19 11:11 PM, Keri Parker 21 Revolution, Vanessa Chang 22 Autumn Tears, Tatiana Gunawan 26 Floating Rock, Guhan Karthik 28 Dearest, My Dearest, Alex Wong 29 April’s Fool, Alex Wong 34-35 The Sunrise, Madison Lin 36 Where do they go?, Lily Hyun 36 Now that they’re gone…, Lily Hyun 43 Unedited, Benjamin Mui 44 Final Farewell, Anya Danes 46 To be a child, Melanie Estrada 47 To the End and Back, Jonathan Cabael 47 Reverse, Benjamin Mui 60 I Need No God, Lily Hyun 61 The Banshee, An-Po Chen 64 Riddle: Who Am I?, Roanna Pham 65 A Leaf’s Life, Sofia Katsioulas 67 Listen, Keira Biala 70 masked smile, Thi Nguyen FICTION 50-51 The Home of Stories, Nishant Perla SIX-WORD STORIES 37 Jonathan Lin 57 Pascale Zanon 69 Shane Nguyen JOKES 25 William Dryden MUSIC 24 Sean’s Theme, Alex Call 24 Something in F Major, Alex Call 24 Something Spooky, Yixuan Qiao 24 Dance in the Midnight Sky, Alex Call 24 Hummingbird, Mando Gonzalvez


dear reader: We present to you the first issue to be published this 2021-22 school year. Like recent years, this year has marked a dramatic shift in our lives. No longer confined to the virtual and real boundaries of online learning and stay-at-home orders, we have been able to come together as a community. We have been able to greet our teachers face-to-face, mingle with our friends during break times, and experience the full wonder of Mitty’s traditions—of course, with a mask on. Change in our lives manifests in our artwork and creative efforts, and this year has been no different. As you peruse the carefully curated and designed pages of The Muse, you will be able to see works in which the tone ranges from hopeful to somber. Our color palette and the layout of the magazine attempt to capture these same emotions, as the colors range from a grounded black to a brilliant linen white, like a sunrise that represents solitude of the night and dissolves into the brightness of day. We now release you to dive into the pages of the magazine, to explore the creative wonders and musings of Mitty’s student body. Here, we have laid forth our dreams and hopes, along with our terrors and worries, for you to view, absorb, and reflect upon. While you flip through the pages, may the spirit of the Muse inspire and enlighten you. The hapless monster in John Gardner’s Grendel whispers in his final moments after he falls and faces death, “Poor Grendel's had an accident... So may you all.” Is this a final curse, or a blessing so that you open your eyes and find the truth? As the following pages will show, when all fell during the pandemic, we acknowledged the darkness and rose like the sun to see the light. It is ultimately up to you to decide how to answer the question…

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Jackie Ruan ‘25

06 07

Questions Julia Baust ‘23 What really happens when you grow old? Do you open your arms to death, Becoming bold by welcoming the cold, Or do you hold on to your last breath? Is death the end or does your journey carry on? Is there really an afterlife, a Heaven and Hell, Or is your one life you had all you own? And is there a Purgatory where all can continue to dwell? If there really is a Heaven and Hell, are there omniscient things? Do angels really get their wings every time a bell rings? Are the purest creatures up above, doves? Or above us is there nothing that moves?


5:16 PM

Ariadine Antonio ‘22

06 07


08 09

Amelia Spink ‘23


I Am From

Arnav Mishra ‘22 I am from shiny hardwood floors, sometimes polished, always cool From neon lights and tiny action figures I am from the corner house with the crack in the driveway Which I once filled with water and floated a paper boat in I am from the lemon trees in my backyard And from the cherry tomato plants that appeared every spring Whose waving branches welcomed me to taste their bounty I am from the crunchy rusk and hot chai I am from weekly calls to family in India From playfully teasing my little sister whenever I see her From piping hot chole bhature and tasty rasmalai as a treat And from traveling to new places Absorbing diverse sights and sounds I am from respecting books, elders, and my guitar And from chanting Sanskrit shlokas in the temple I am from my great, great grandfather who was a holistic healer And from my ancestors who protested social injustices In a country demanding to be free I am from the little moments, things, places, and people Remembered and forgotten, sweet and tart Cherished and celebrated These are what make me Me.

08 09


Amelia Spink ‘23

10 11

Shadow Ariadine Antonio ‘22


Madison Lin ‘25

10 11


Human Expression: Depth of Simple Emotions Jonathan Lin ‘23

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Reality

Jett Huynh ‘25 Getting out of bed, so tired with myself The same routine, I commit every day Heading downstairs, can’t even make myself food Going to work, meeting with people My boss says, “everything here I just hate.” No, don’t say something like you can relate This is something I do just to stay awake Because of your comments that have been spoken My soul and spirit will continue to be broken That’s what it’s like to have your life as a token Used and used until they’re happy Then thrown away because this is my reality.


12 13

Amelia Spink ‘23


Guilt

14 15

Mando Gonzalves ‘22 You are shame. You are shame because you carry around that balloon. Oh, that damn balloon. Filled -almost to burst- with that warm, disgusting air. You could open it. You could blow the whole thing. But instead you taunt me with it and keep on a plastic face, like it’s not even there. Please, stop holding that balloon! I’ve had enough! I’ve learned my lesson! Let it out or put it away.


14 15

Madison LIn ‘25


16 17

Finger Laces El Yang '23


16 17


18 19

40 41

Ariadine Antonio ‘22


11:11 PM

Keri Parker ‘25 You weren’t supposed to be mine forever, but in a perfect world you were. You were supposed to come home in December, something I thought for sure. As I grew older people explained all the things that you couldn't make clear. As I grew older I realized that you never meant to disappear. You were supposed to be happy, and for that I can’t be selfish. You were supposed to go away, and for all the memories, I cherished. You weren’t supposed to stay here, you were supposed to chase your dream. You weren’t supposed to stay here, you were supposed to see what I’ve never seen. I’ll be ok here, but not as ok as I may seem. Of all the nights I sat in bed and stayed up late to pray, I never once said a prayer that wished that you would stay.

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20 21

All Too Well (10 Minute Version) Roanna Pham ‘23


Revolution

Vanessa Chang ‘25 Summer comes and goes Soon replaced with Fall, The empty breeze flows And echoes Nature’s call.

20 21 Melanie Estrada ‘25

Jackie Ruan ‘25


Autumn Tears

Tatiana Gunawan ‘23 The crisp autumn air fills my nose The leaves fall slowly to the ground below It's satisfying, the way the river flows It's music to my ears as memories come and go The sweater to shield me from the cold reminds me of the warmth you give The sound of your laughter never gets old Each memory of you and I, I want to relive The tears flow down my cheek as I long for you to be by my side Days turn to weeks And I wish I could fly to your side

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Oh how I wish you were here with me now The cold autumn air makes me long for you more All I hope for is the next time I see you when I can hold you in my arms forever more

Enya Liu ‘23


22 23

Anjani Nabar ‘25


Juliana Bernal ‘25

Music

Sean’s Theme Alex Call ‘23

Something in F Major Alex Call ‘23

24 25

Something Spooky Yixuan Qiao ‘23

Dance in the Midnight Sky

Alex Call ‘23

Hummingbird

Mando Gonzalvez ‘22


24 25 What did the shark say when he ate the clown fish? This tastes a little funny. William Dryden ‘25

Aquarium

Ariadine Antonio ‘22


Floating Rock

Guhan Karthik ‘23 We feel there can’t be much larger Than the problems that we face But stepping back, they seem so small In a floating rock in space We hate, regret, we guilt, we shame Let go of hope, we cry But all so insignificant In a floating rock in the sky So what on Earth could we even do Of meaning in a world like ours If everything’s so trivial In a floating rock in the stars

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We can laugh, enjoy, cherish our gifts Find peace, find hope, embrace For life’s too small to waste on hate In a floating rock in space


26 27

San Luis Obispo

Jackie Ruan ‘25


Dearest, My Dearest Alex Wong ‘22 dearest drake who stole your wings? which shivered with joy and made you sing? i took them myself to stop me from falling rend feather from flesh hear the knell tones calling dearest drake will you ever fly? soar towards sunset? embrace the dawn light? my heart is sore and i cannot see my lungs pained everytime i breathe dearest drake who stole your jewel? 28 the one that shined 29 in the face of the cruel?

it was the bunny it was her snake it was the goat who took their shape her voice, it whispered in my ear you are not worthy to live my dear dearest drake i love you, it's true. i wish to hold you till your pains undo my blood is stagnant my talons are ice my tail, a barbed wire my compassion, a vice your embrace cannot save me from pains undue dearest drake where did you go?

i’m lying and lying in the frostbiting snow

6:15 AM

Ariadine Antonio ‘22


April’s Fool Alex Wong ‘22 Dear secret keeper, hold onto your truths Keep your silence, harness white lies Keep the tears, out of their eyes Smile through it all You are the rock Hold on, Hold onHold on! Hold on. Tighter tighter Farewell

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30 31

Hope

Kaylee Wibowo ‘24


30 31

Madison Lin ‘25


Concussed

Bridget Juul '25

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32 33

Anjani Nabar ‘25


The Sunrise

Madison Lin ‘25 Standing on the beach A girl stood Looking at the sunset The glowing rays bringing warmth. As the light shone Her eyes sparkled As the waves flowed She took in the view Wondering how small she seemed. Looking at the large horizons Thinking about how her life would pass In the single blink of an eye How her thoughts Her friends Her family Herself

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A Sunset Over the Beautiful Waves Grace Caradonna ‘25


Would all become history How her possessions Her memories Her life as she knows it Would disappear. But staring at the startling brightness Of the setting sun She thought of the love The happiness The joy Of living And smiled.

At the start of dawn A boy stood Looking out at the sunrise Taking in the colors of the sky Breathing in the scent of the sea. As birds flew above As waves crashed against the shore He thought. He thought of the water And the way it shone He thought of the vast sea And how far it would go. Straining his eyes For a glimpse of land He imagined someone Standing on the other side’s sand Having the same thoughts The same wants The same feeling of longing The longing for a friend.

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Where do they go? Tell me— where do they go? When files are deleted When words are said, but not heard and diffuse into nothingness, drifting leisurely away through the air When thoughts are forgotten When people rot, ripen, dissolve back into the earth— When thoughts of people are forgotten All to an unreachable destination When pain is overcome When love fades When joy is forgotten And innocence is taken That once was so overwhelmingly present When something so intangibly there Is gone from us forever

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Where do they go? Off the face of the earth Or reincarnated back onto it Dispatched to the dark depths of the sea and condensed up, into the clouds to be rained back down upon us Do they appear on a different world in a different universe in a different way Or are they shoved into a dark, unreachable corner of the brain to be carried with us always

Now that they’re gone… I guess where they go is not my true question Because losing things is my true knack I’ve just been sitting here wondering: How do I get them back? Lily Hyun ‘22 Melanie Estrada ‘25


“Lost in the past, remembered always.” Jonathan Lin ‘23

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Henry Amrhein ‘24


38 39

Juliana Bernal ‘25


38 39

Madison Lin ‘25


40 38 39 41


Joey Childs ‘24

40 38 39 41


42 43

Chickadee

Prismatic

Tvesa Vathulya ‘25


Edit: backspac Edit: cut—cut paste Edit: rewrite Edit: rethink I’m not like that face to face Stutter Mumble Imperfect How lovely Complaints are exasperating Hands are awkward Eyes shift back and forth But it’s always a good laugh Except when tears flow

42 43

How refreshing No screen to hide behind No keyboard klacking No pretty pictures Just us and the world Just us and reality Just us and the grass (Perfectly) unedited Unedited

Benjamin Mui ‘22


Evening Drive Sameet Das ‘25

44 45

Final Farewell

Anya Danes ‘23

Footsteps sounding out the door, a final breath then nothing Always left with wanting more, always left with yearning Words recalled and memories replayed, all bring nothing back Of the presence that once was here, now it fades to black A regret-filled being I have become, wishing for you here All your smiles, all your songs, I’ll forget most, I fear And now at last, I guess I must, bid you a final farewell In my reflection, I glimpse you there, a persistent parallel


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To be a child

Melanie Estrada ‘25

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Happy smiles are like children with flowers. Good while it lasts but only for an hour. Though we laugh, Though we smile, Our masks only last for a little while. To be a child Would be quite foul, Undermined by another's power, Unappreciated, Unnoticed, Just like dew drops on a flower. Flowers are like children, Underestimated, Overlooked, Undervalued. Happy smiles only last for a while. Knowledge works just like power: Too much and it's ammunition, Too little and it's lethal. Happy smiles, children and flowers, knowledge works just like power.

Jackie Ruan ‘25


Enya Liu ‘23

To the End and Back

Jonathan Cabael ‘22

Reverse

I love you and I can’t believe because of everything that happened between you and me there’s nothing between us And I feel so sad

Benjamin Mui ‘22 This is the truth And whether I choose to or not I get to be in love with a special girl And I don’t know why I feel so conflicted When everyone can see that Why do I still try my best Being utterly perfect To nobody but her And ultimately failing To chase success My desire to be with her Is something more than A parting dream Only to forget in the morning While lying in bed With no thoughts but her name Finally finishing the day Overwhelmed by the sight Large shining eyes At the scene of tears Leads to wonder and regret Over choices never made Actions stopped by fear Able to realize that I am lucky for being Alive and think how I can feel myself In precious love If only I didn’t reverse my thoughts

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48 49

Isolation

Emma Pham ‘23


Juliana Bernal ‘25

48 49

Tahoe Sunset Sameet Das ‘25


The Home of Stories Nishant Perla ‘25

I stumbled into the room with the light, hoping I had made my way outside. Sadly, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Instead of a view of a golden desert from snow capped mountains, I saw a room lined with gold. Silver torches were placed all around the room, giving it a heavenly glow. I grabbed one and made my way through the room. Everything was neatly organized, separated into size, shape, type of metal, and other categories. The floor was tiled with all the colors of the rainbow, creating a beautiful pattern. The ceiling had gold-tipped bronze chandeliers, each of them unique and extremely intricate. The walls were the most interesting. They were covered in paintings and drawings, both crude and extravagant. As I approached the images, I realized what I was seeing.

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Each wall was covered in stories from different parts of the world. One wall detailed Gilgamesh’s journey to find the secrets of immortality. It showed the Great Flood, his friend’s Enkidu’s death, and many different adventures that he took. Another wall shows the Ramayana, with images showing Ravana kidnapping Sita, Rama’s adventure to save her, and Hanuman burning down Lanka. I turned around, and took in the depiction of Hercules. The wall showed his twelve labors; bright colors showed his fight with the Nemean lion, a dull image showed him shoveling the stables, each looking more beautiful than the last. There was an entire wall dedicated to snakes from around the world; Jormungandr shared the same space as the Rainbow Snake. This place looked like it was a graveyard for stories. I frowned. These stories were from all over the world; how had they all gotten here? I saw an image of Quetzacoatl, a mythical snake from Aztec mythology. The Aztec were on the other side of the planet! As I looked around more, I could see what looked like cave paintings at the bottom of the wall. Each of the coins or artifacts each had a picture on it, telling yet another story. I shook my head in wonder, trying to think of the possibilities. I picked up a ring and a lamp, which both had a shiny ruby attached to it, when I realized something. I ran back to the front of the room, and confirmed my suspicions; the stories were all in chronological order. The room started with cave paintings, and then the drawings would get really detailed and intricate, then suddenly fall back to simple drawings. The cycle kept repeating, but each cycle started better off and went further than the last, with a few exceptions. The last cycle ended only a couple millennia ago, and it was shown with a ton of different drawings of a flood, famous stories from all over the world. There was Noah’s Ark, the Sages and Matsya, Turtle Island, Gilgamesh on his raft, and Deucalion and his chest, among many others. As I reached the end of the hall, I saw different modern folktales and extremely popular stories.


I also saw pictures of different cities in the world, and I was blown away by the accuracy and detail in each of the images. I frowned, and wondered yet again how these pictures came here; that fact that it was thousands upon thousands of years old confused me even more. I realized that these stories were what shaped our histories. They taught people morals and what to do and not to do. It utilized people's creativity, inspiring a lot of people. In fact, things like Greek myths influenced a lot in today’s society! As I was exploring, I came across a section of lifelike statues. They looked so human, but the only thing off about them was that they were covered in black ink. I saw a lot of different pictures, some of them really detailed while the others just looked like a kid’s drawings. The placement of the statues was a bit off, as it didn’t seem to be a part of any mythology. I shrugged it off, thinking it just didn’t have a place. I sighed and looked up from the statues and noticed black smoke in the corner of the room. As I approached it, I heard hissing, and I noticed it was only in one corner of the room. It was slowly moving up and to the side, and left behind markings. I leaned in, and noticed that they were pictures just like the rest of the images in the hall. I gasped in surprise as the realization hit me. This smoke was the one that had created all the images! Suddenly, the hissing stopped. The inky black smoke peeled from the wall, and fell to the ground with an audible plop. I stared at the blob for a second, before it started rushing towards me, leaving behind a small ink trail. Before I could react, it had latched onto my fingers, and started crawling its way 50 up my arms. I screamed and swore and looked around frantically for an 51 exit. I saw a doorway shining with sunlight and started to rush towards it. The ink creature started swinging wildly, trying to slow me down. I was flung in all directions, but it only slowed down a little. Each time I broke something, the thing started to move faster. When I reached the doorway, the smoke creature had reached my shoulder. The second I stepped into the light, the ink hissed and jumped off and crawled back to its place on the wall. It continued with its drawing and acted as if I had never been there. I looked down at my arm, and stared in shock at what I saw there. It looked like I had gotten a bunch of tattoos—thin black lines snaking across my whole forearm—from my fingertips to my elbow. The progression in the art style was the same as the chamber walls; at my fingertips, the drawings were just stick figures, and as I twisted my neck to look at my shoulder, I could see the colorful, elaborate drawings. I collapsed in the doorway, catching my breath, just out of sight of the ink creature. I looked closely at the drawings and was shocked when I saw my journey in that chamber. From a stick figure entering a cave to a precise masterpiece of me running out of the doorway, each step of my journey was pictured as a tattoo on my arm. I stood up slowly, taking in everything that happened. I thought it would be an amazing story to tell. However, I quickly realized that people would just think I’m crazy and brush me off, maybe even taking me to a hospital. I vowed to keep this to myself and walked to the bright light. I realized that this wasn’t a place for stories to die, but for them to be born. Stepping through the second doorway, I tripped and stumbled into what I hoped was outside.


52 53

Red

Saji Paul '25


52 53

Sunflower

Saji Paul ‘25


54 55

Amelia Spink ‘23


Juliana Bernal ‘25

54 55

Madison Lin ‘25


Amelia Spink ‘23

56 57

EJ Brown ‘23


Flower held tightly, smiling so brightly Pascale Zanon ‘23

56 57

Buzz

Issy Oligher ‘22


58 59

Jackie Ruan ‘25


Madison Lin ‘25

58 59


60 61

They told me to picture god I saw a harsh, lifeless space an overwhelming darkness a weightless dearth of existence (In which I drifted alone) Until I saw my mom In a golden, warm blurry place (That I knew was my kitchen table) And large, relaxing eyes And a thin, loving smile And I entered this cozy place Existing first as tenderness and love And then as an abstract, floating presence And then by a cool breeze on my skin (and a shiver creaking up my spine) If there really is a god I have nothing to tell her Only a deep cavern of questions And an open mind (to receive)

I Need No God

Lily Hyun ‘22


Some say banshees are short—around three or four feet tall. Mine was tall. Some say they are terrifying creatures. Well, mine was, but she was also kind. I first saw her when I was sick in bed. I was dying of age. My banshee stood outside my bedroom window, completely still day and night. The night she walked in, the floor creaked with sounds of old wood, and the walls vibrated when she hit her head against the kitchen cabinets. She walked into my bedroom, bending down and putting her ghostly hand on mine. It was cold—really cold. She spoke no words with her mouth, but I saw her eyes, and they were beautiful. Despite the deformed face, the abnormal height—despite the terrifying appearance and hideous presence, she, as a creation of a Greater Existence, was beautiful. She communicated with me through her eyes, and I smiled at her. “Thank you.” She shrieked her terrible shriek—so high and so displeasing to the ear. She shrieked for me—she mourned for me. And off I went.

The Banshee An-Po Chen ‘25

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62 63

French Braid Thi Nguyen ‘23


62 63

Yucatán Mexico Jackie Ruan ‘25


Riddle: Who Am I?

Roanna Pham ‘23

Once in the ground I lay, Rooted in the fallen leaves And the summer breeze. Strong and sturdy was I when The earth-dwellers discovered My existence. Like you would a child, they Praised my growth and Admired my stature.

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Only then, once they had built me up To the height of my pride, did they tear me down, Ripping me apart; Limb by limb. They manipulated me to no end, Stripped me of my individuality, Sold me like a commodity. I was forced to write a script, I had no control of and could not change. I once had the world in my hands— Now I am in the hands of the world. Sharpened to the point of perfection, I no longer recognize myself. Who am I?

Enchanted Woods Enya Liu ‘23


A Leaf’s Life

Sofia Katsioulas ‘25 The leaf starts out new A green sprout, a new start A new friendship, bound to grow But some leaves are cut So abruptly they're ripped With no way to ever go back Though most leaves, they grow old Go through sun and the rain They stay, changing colors on the way And some leaves They stay green for eternity Nothing changes for better or worse There are many leaves, Many ways to stay friends And many ways it can all fail

But staying true, Through the good and bad, Is always the way to go And alas after some unforeseeable time The leaves have to finally fall But they know that they've lived a good life Because on the tree, the leaves always grow tall And the leaves have been blown by the wind The leaves have been broken from age But what's most important to them Is that they went through change Friendships are bound to change Like leaves in autumn hues But change often makes you stronger And helps you find your true colors

Jackie Ruan ‘25

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66 67

Madison Lin ‘25


Enya Liu ‘23

Listen Keira Biala ‘22 Why is this happening to us? We had nothing to do with the war You don’t express the main causes of this war You direct it all at us We are not all bad Our businesses are getting destroyed Everything we worked hard for We get looks on the street We are scared for our lives We want to be free But yet your society doesn’t allow it We have to fight For our right to be free If you only listened to us, we could Help our country break free So I ask you to listen Listen to the voices of ours We can help you overcome these challenges that have hurt so many people So please Listen...

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68 69

Joey Childs ‘24


Melanie Estrada ‘25

Sued the airline. Lost my case. Shane Nguyen ‘25

68 69

Melanie Estrada ‘25


Amelia Spink ‘23

masked smile Thi Nguyen ‘23

the most beautiful thing i've seen in a while, i don’t know it’s actually there, but your eyes say it all, the most beautiful thing? the most beautiful thing is your smile.

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it saddens me to say, i can't watch the full show; the main lead has been hidden, but spotlight features a new star dance as you chuckle, it decorates you as you twinkle, you might be offended by “wrinkles” but don’t be, because it’s beautiful, your eye smile, and your little smile wrinkles. sometimes i sit, and i warmly remember, your masked smile.


70 71

EJ Brown ‘23


72 73

Madison Lin ‘25


Madison Lin ‘25

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Moderator Mr. Kevin Brazelton

Proofreader Mrs. Janelle Kroenung

Administrator Mr. Keith Mathews

Editors Luna Anderson Ariadine Antonio Jules Banucci Elizabeth Joseph Guhan Karthik Enya Liu Arnav Mishra Stella Park Arielle Rizal Sara Simoni Chelsea Soriano Ria Sudhir Alinna Villaroman Kori Zacher

Archbishop Mitty High School Literary Magazine


Mission Statement Thanks for reading this issue of The The Muse: AMHS Student Literary

Muse: AMHS Student Literary

Magazine is a collection of original,

Magazine! Our creative ventures can

creative content produced by students

have a profound impact on our

of Archbishop Mitty. The purpose of this

understanding of the world around us.

magazine is to support students'

It is our sincere hope that the content

creative expression, to allow students to

within this issue has inspired you to

share their words and experiences in an

think, write, and dream. Please on the

imaginative way, and to establish a

lookout for more issues in the future.

community of artists, writers, and

We hope to see you again as we publish

thinkers. By creating an outlet for

more fantastic work created by AMHS

student voices, The Muse hopes to

students.

foster a culture of self-expression and interconnection throughout the entire student body.

– The Editors


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