1 minute read
The Salt Marsh
R. Wayne Gray
A place between Land and water, A nursery to the masses, Sponges and storm barriers, Teeming with life, An undercover city.
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Filtering pollutants, A productive wildlife habitat, Land of low oxygen and salt, Home to plants and plankton, A harsh environment. A place of peace and beauty.
Twice a day, Washed by high tides, Purging all garbage, You are the wetlands, You are the meadowlands, Home of the wild rose, The red-winged blackbird, And thousands of others.
I see you daily. The streams running through, A paradise of organic matter, Breathing and surging, A tidal marsh. You are no wasteland.
And later I watch A grove of cedars, Run over by spring tides, Rusty in the sunlight, Loaded down with robins.
Fragile Dreams
Gretchen Wooten
Dreams are fragile things Or rather, they’ve always been for me
So light, so vivid The rising ballads they sing Invite me to listen Take the very best from me And render it wistful, Before away again they fling
This one of mine is especially tricky I found it not too long ago
It’s faint, it’s fickle Bares blusterous wings And when I try to reign it in, It wants nothing to do with me!
But the more I leave it, The more restless it grows And the more I chase it, The further it goes
What do I do? With the silly old thing
I don’t want to break it, It comforts me most I don’t want to feed it, It’ll get high on hope
So it’s a fragile balance, you see To always keep a dream just out of reach
The Senses of Autumn
Hannah N. Simpson
Oh to take a walk on a crisp Autumn day!
Where the orange, red, yellow leaves doth sway, The smell of campfire and the roasting of smores, Oh how I long to be by that fire-pit in the great outdoors! The sight of the pumpkin patch fills my heart with glee, Oh how fun painting our tangerine-colored gourds will be! The taste of pumpkin spice and the fluffy white cream, Oh how disinterested I am for how stereotypical I seem! The sound of the children- little witches and ghosts, Oh how they rush to every porch and doorpost! The touch of my darling’s hands, large and frigid, Oh how our love makes us warmer, the cold fully omitted! When Winter comes, I beg Autumn to stay! “Oh how I wish your color and cheer would never decay! Please leave me a token of your joyful hue, Oh how I need it when the dark months ensue!”