The Arrow
Spring 2022
Student Editors: William S., Mariana D., Heidi C., David G., Shivan T., Juno Y., Abigail N. Faculty Advisors: Jessica DiFalco & Monica Carrier With Special Thanks To: Shazia Durrani, Brad Walters, & Richard Robinson Faculty Support: Ellen Ferguson, Meredith Maddox, Trevor Ogden, Megan Fogarty, Cameron Virril
Hackley Middle School Literary & Art Magazine 2022
Cover Art: Ali B. ‘29
Inside Cover Art: Theo A. ‘27
Maddy C. ‘29
Tapping Maple Trees
____________________________________________________________________________________ Elleana D. ‘28
The fall leaves change from green, to red, orange, and yellow. Each day, they got older and darker. The trees were as tall as a house. During the fall, I recall my favorite memory, tapping maple trees. I hear the crunch as people walk over the crisp leaves that have fallen from the aging trees. My dad hammers the spindle into the tree, and I remember the overwhelming clink as he hits it. The sweet aroma of syrup fills the air. I remember the beautiful fresh autumn flare. The sap is glue. As I touch the trees, it sticks to my fingers. The bucket feels cool and heavy as I help lift it onto the spindle. We walk away, and I look back at the trees. The weeks drag on like years. I cannot wait to come back to see what treasure has flowed into my silver bucket.
The Lantern
____________________________________________________________________________________ Sarah S. ‘28
A twinkling star in a sea of darkness lighting up the night, shining bright for all who need my glow. Through rain or snow, I stand strong. Day after day, I flicker and fade but never go out.
opposite page: Evelyn W. ‘28
Aila R. ‘29
Fall Poem
____________________________________________________________________________________ Isabelle G. ‘28
Every year when fall comes around, and the leaves change color, I am reminded of my favorite fall memory: hiking in the woods catching the falling leaves feeling the smooth yet brittle leaves crumble in your hands and the smooth veins of living ones. The crunching of the leaves under my feet, the rustling trees in the wind. When you look up, the blue sky is hidden by the bright leaves. So many colors red orange yellow green and brown, so many more than I can count. The crisp smell of apples and cinnamon, the drifting scent of maple trees and syrup linger, warm and cozy. A bowl of chicken soup makes me feel right at home in the chilly weather. The aftertaste lingering in my mouth makes me feel snug in my layers of jackets and sweaters.
Emma C. ‘27
My Aunt’s Apartment
____________________________________________________________________________________ Madison C. ‘26
Selena’s discography was the soundtrack to my aunt’s apartment. It was a sound so melodious that even as a child I became an instant fan, shouting along in my scratchy little-kid voice to “Como La Flor.” There was always something being made in her house. There was a constant smell of mantecaditos or arroz con pollo being given life within these walls. As I peered into the doorway and looked over at my beautiful aunt with her dark brown skin watering the discos para empanadas, delicately filling them with beef and shredded cheese, I shuddered with the excitement of learning to put the perfect amount of love into my empanadas like that. Watching her “expert level” cooking was something that always put me at ease. The quick rhythmic splashing of her fingertips into the small, shallow bowl, the clatter of the fork after the edges were finished being crimped. All of it was familiar, yet so distant. Somehow sensing my lingering gaze, she gestured towards her, and finally, it was my turn.
Race
____________________________________________________________________________________ Lola F. ‘27
I jump in the water. The gutters overflow. Then, an ice-cold sensation runs through my body as the water splashes my face. I start kicking; it doesn’t take long for my legs to start burning, and the freezing cold to turn into intense heat. I spend day after day, practice after practice, every single yard kicking, pulling, and letting the water gracefully flow around my body, not through it. Years of practice for one race, standing on the blocks, my hands begin to shake. The whistle blows. I push off the blocks. Then the adrenaline kicks in. Before I can think, my hands fly over my head, and I hear the beat of my own kick. Seconds go by,
Race, continued
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but it feels like hours. My hand finally touches the pad. I can barely hear the shouting over my own heart. The joy slips away as I look at the board — another time worse than the last, another waste when I thought I had the right pace. I keep trying, but to no avail. You can’t say “bad race” or “I made a mistake.” Just rinse and repeat; Say you can’t be beat. That’s it there’s nothing else to it.
Love Letter to Roma Pepperoni Pizza
____________________________________________________________________________________ Jack M. ‘28
To my cheesy, wonderful Roma pepperoni pizza, I feel so much love for you today that I had to stop and express my feelings for you. I love you so much, and I know it is strange for a 12-year-old boy to be declaring his love for a piece of pizza, but this feels so natural to me. I wish our relationship could last forever but unfortunately, you have an expiration date, and you will get moldy and gross over time. As soon as my lips touched your perfectly melted cheese, it was love at first touch. It was just a normal summer evening, but from that moment on, my life changed forever. I love your amazing combination of hot cheese melting in my mouth when I take a bite. The pepperoni gives a perfect touch to your perfectly sized crust, made from the finest bread in all of Westchester County. I just wish I could feel your flavors burst in my mouth just once more. Your pepperoni blows my mind in thirty-five different directions. You are devastatingly attractive, and I wish our love would go on forever. I am yearning for the day that my bank account can support a lifetime supply of you. I will see you soon my love. Forever yours, Jack M.
opposite page: Kayla R. ‘28
Charlie W. ‘29
The S’more
____________________________________________________________________________________ Kendall J. ‘28
I have multiple colors like khaki beige, white, and dark brown. That is just the outside But there is more to me than what meets the eye I am not just one thing; I have multiple layers The graham crackers represent me being strong Like the outer crust of the earth The silky sight of the melting chocolate represents that I am sweet The squishy sight of the marshmallow represents I can be sensitive because I am fragile like glass. Now that you heard what is inside, I hope now you know there is more to me than what meets the eye.
Six Ways of Seeing a Cabin
____________________________________________________________________________________ Mia S. ‘28
The best way of staying out. Bunk beds line the wall. Us, excited and nervous in this new environment. Warm pillows like a hug, a new form of living. Comfy homes, connected to nature. Nature itself tangling around you like the leash of a playful puppy, wildlife never closer. The exact definition of mornings of hiking to the windy mountain-top, looking for the hues of green and blues bordering the star-speckled sky known as the aurora. The bright reds and oranges of the sound of laughter ringing throughout the cabin, and hot chocolate by the raging bonfire, laughing as the marshmallow begins to melt. Brilliant and new, having a sort of uniqueness. A new way of staying out, undiscovered before the trip to Iceland. A way that feels old but new at the same time.
Six Ways of Seeing a Cabin, continued
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A dump. A place where no human should live. Disastrous and a quiet sight. Majestic and tall, stands straight like a champion. A fashionable way of living. Staring over the hills, forgotten after only a night. Sitting, waiting, for the next crowd of tourists to arrive.
Zion B. ‘26
Bode C. ‘26
Jason’s Tasks, excerpt
____________________________________________________________________________________ Brady A. ‘28
There was a man named Jason who got into trouble with the gods, so he had to do trials to please them. You might be wondering how he got in trouble. He got into trouble by saying, “Let’s go start a civilization named Rome.” When he went to his house, he got zapped up to Olympus. Zeus, Hephaestus, Artemis, and Apollo were the only gods present. Zeus said that Jason must not go start a new place called Rome, but must do trials for the gods instead. For the first trial, he had to figure out a way to capture lightning in a jar. So, he went out in search of materials to make a canister. His first thought was to have it strike a jar so he found a really high place on a tree and took out a ceramic jar. It took many nights until finally, lightning struck, but it hit the tree and cracked it down the middle. He scrambled down as fast as he could before it fell. After it fell, he retrieved his jar and went back to the town to ask around for help, but no one knew how. So then, he decided to get his jar and a shield and went to a place that is commonly struck by lightning. He placed the jar down and held the shield over his head. Finally, when the lightning struck, it hit the metal shield and not the jar, and Jason passed out. When he returned to consciousness, the shield was sparking and sizzling, and when he touched it, it shocked him. When that happened, he had an idea. He took the shield home and melted it then turned it into thin flexible strings and wrapped it around the inside of the jar. It worked, and he proudly presented his creation to the gods. For the second task, he had to become the best at archery so he fashioned a bow out of olive tree wood. He began to practice, but after about six months and several blistered fingers, he realized it was a trick task. So, he told the gods he couldn’t become the best archer because Artemis and Apollo were the best. The gods were pleased with his response. The third task was to try and capture and bring Cerberus up to Olympus. He had to go into the Underworld, and he did not know how to do that. At first, he tried digging, but after a few hours, it seemed pointless. Then, he thought he just needed to find a hellhound to lead hin there. He searched for a long time. Finally, he found it and followed it for a while. He tracked it through trees, mountains, and near seas. Then, the hellhound tensed; Jason thought it discovered him,
Jason’s Tasks, excerpt, continued
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but then it jumped up and disappeared. That puzzled Jason but soon, he realized that it somehow jumped to the Underworld. So he went to find another hellhound and followed it, but this time he brought a rope. When he found it, he followed it; when it tensed to jump, Jason wrapped the rope around his neck to go into the Underworld. When he landed, the hellhound pounced. He sidestepped it, pulled out his bow, and shot it in its back knees to immobilize it. After that, he went on his search for Cerberus. There were so many other hellhounds, there was not a spot where you couldn’t find them, but yet none were the three-headed Cerberus. So he went to Hades’ palace, and tied to the front door was Cerberus. When Cerberus saw him, he howled, and all the other hellhounds came running. Before the hellhounds could even think of what to do to him, Jason ran and sliced the chain attached to Cerberus, held on to it, and jumped as high as he could; it almost felt as if the wind was pushing him up. Somehow, he ended up on the earth. He had to run as fast as he could because Cerberus was chasing him, but Jason had a plan. He ran to Olympus so the gods could deal with Cerberus, and when he got there, panting from the effort and drenched with sweat, the gods summoned a glowing golden cage and put Cerberus in it, sending it through the floor. A deep thunderous voice boomed, “Well done.” Jason looked up to see Zeus.
Jojo H. ‘29
Six Ways of Seeing Animal Cruelty
____________________________________________________________________________________ Evelyn W. ‘28 1. His body is dead, but he is still here. His horns are gone just like he is. Another flower has withered today. 2. The poacher stares down at his new victim, his face remains flat, He is a monster. 3. He is scared, a mouse in a cat game. He can only watch, and wonder if he will be next. The freedom of the forest smelled sweet, but the forest has turned into a bitter jail. 4. The empathetic activist, helping where he can. It’ll never be enough. His anger is sharp and melancholy. 5. The bystander who likes the decorations of tusks and horns. He will not do anything, He does not care. 6. The animals are gone. a habitat that is empty, a soul with no essence.
Color
____________________________________________________________________________________ Juno Y. ‘26
Red. The first time I saw her, I wasn’t sure she was real. The only thing I saw when I stumbled in the room was her. Auburn hair haloed her face, cascading down in perfect, shining waves that I could never accomplish, and my heart stuttered. Orange. Anyone would be stupid to not fall for her. She had this energy that unfurled in the air around her, an eternal wind that flowed through her hair. When she laughed, the fire flickered, and the pumpkin spice leaves spun and spun around her; she was the center, and I burned for her. Yellow. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Somewhere in our language of shy glances and coy smiles, she knew. Of course she did. We spun in the sunshine, laughter ringing through the halls. My life brightened, days turning into glowing swirls of bliss and smooth honey because I was with her. Green. Doubt crept in, crowding our happiness from both sides. Eyes narrowed, smiles sharpened. A fog descended. I couldn’t put a finger on how it happened, or when, but over the span of several months, a poison—radioactive green—dripped into our minds.
Color, continued
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Blue. Why? I don’t know. I wish I did. That wouldn’t matter. So cold. The sky in summer, a bright cornflower, descended into the lonely off-black of the edge of space. The sharp sapphire of her eyes when she told me, welling up with tears. So, so, cold. Purple. It was the feeling of something long gone. The whole world tipped upside down, leaving me crying on the ceiling. It was twilight when she left. She was still beautiful, bathed in the violets of the dying sun, crushing the remnants of our relationship. I watched it fracture, a thousand shards of glass revealing us in a thousand shades of color.
Noah H. ‘28
Late Night Ninjas
____________________________________________________________________________________ Nora H. ‘27
(Lights up on a costume shop late at night. James pacing through the numerous aisles with mom trailing behind.) Ok, Mom, I need something great! Something big, SPECTACULAR. This is my first Halloween as a middle-schooler, and I need a good costume. (pause) Yes, Mom I know it’s late but 10 more minutes, pleaseeeeee. (muttering) What should I get, what should I get…. Oh look at this one! It’s a ninja costume with a sword and everything! And yes, I can bring a fake sword to school. (annoyed) Seriously, come on, Mom. You think I’m gonna go around poking people with plastic? Focus. There are so many options here, and Halloween is only a week away, so we need to pick up the pace…. MOM! Where did you go!? (James runs around the shop and finds his mom in the kid’s section.) Mom, Jake already has his costume; we don’t need to be in the 8 and under section. (pause) No absolutely not. There is no way I am not being a puppy for Halloween. I’m going to trick or treat with ALL my friends. I don’t want them to see me in a fluffy onesie. Let’s go back to my section. The store is closing soon. (James and his mom both walk back to the older section.) Oh my, there are so many options, I don’t know what to choose from. (pause) Yes, yes, I know I’ve been over here multiple times, but every time I come over here there are more and more costumes being added; it’s like an infinite loop. And yes, before you say anything, I knowwww the store is closing. Just let me look for a few more minutes. (James looks at the clock anxiously; it reads 9:28 pm.) Ok, ok, ok, we have two minutes. Let’s go. Come on, let’s buy the ninja costume. We can always return it. (James and his mom walk up to the front of the store.) Yes, I would like to buy this costume please. (pause) What do you mean? It’s non-refundable! What if I don’t like it!? What if I want a different costume!? (James and the man at the desk have a brief staring contest.) Oh well, ok, let’s buy this. I wanna go home. Shopping for costumes is stressful.
Mia S. ‘28
The King
____________________________________________________________________________________ Sarah S. ‘28
Light glints off metal. I will win this. A graceful dance, but in the end, there is only one winner. I feel the air bowing before me, fleeing, not daring to interfere. I cut them all down. Blade meets blade, A struggle of force and strength. The white blur of my opponent catches my eye as I duck and dodge, attack and retreat, parry and disengage. This is all a game to me. I lunge the satisfying THUNK of hitting my opponent rewards me. A buzzer sounds; I am the champion. My owner sheathes me. I am the king, The king of fencing. I rule every fight.
The Last Tree
____________________________________________________________________________________ Heidi C. ‘28 I heard it, mechanical buzzing. I felt it, a rumble like an earthquake. And then I saw it, the monster, the giant cart-like car, with monster truck wheels, and saws, huge, spinning saws. It got closer and closer, as the buzzing intensified, as the rumbling got louder. I heard a grinding sound, wood bits flying everywhere, as my friend yelled, “Help!” The realization came to me. It stung. I could not do anything to help, nor could the animals. I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch and sob, as my dear friend collapsed, and as he fell to the ground, his leaves fluttered in the air. And then all of the others began to collapse with him, fallen leaves fluttering, wood bits flying, I waited for my turn,
The Last Tree, continued
____________________________________________________________________________________ hopeless, heartbroken. The man operating the machine yelled, “That’s enough lumber!” and that dreadful machine stopped in my face. At this point, I preferred to be chopped down, along with my friends, along with my family. But they left me alive. For what? I was furious. Why? Why did my friends get chopped down? For paper? For napkins? Such insignificant things, compared to my friends. My friends and I have kept people alive, providing oxygen for all living things. And why, why did I have to remain here, all alone, for so many animals rushed to me, for shelter, for comfort, as their homes were destroyed.
Kalin H. ‘26
Jake N. ‘26
Dustin R. ‘29
The Red Codex: A Brief Recollection of the History of the Crimson Union, as transcribed by Albertus the Swift-Handed, excerpt
____________________________________________________________________________________ Ace P. ‘27
Chapter, the First: The Islands Crimson, located some ways northwest of what is now known as Australia, were twice blessed. Firstly, the archipelago was blessed with bountiful natural resources. The constant rainfall enabled a lush natural environment to flourish upon the land. There could be found a diversity of flora and fauna in this, a land of warmth and beauty. The bounties of the land were matched in whole by those of the sea surrounding the islands, wherein aquatic life flourished and there could be found a plentiful reef. Below the ground, copious reserves of iron and other valuable materials were buried by giants of earth long gone. These were islands filled with life, with plenty, with potential. It is here that we come to their second blessing: the population. There cannot be found a soul alive that knows from just where the Crimson People first sailed, nor when or why they left. Inference can tell to us that they migrated from one of the less glorious nations of what is presently known as the Australian continent. We lack evidence of interaction between the Crimson People and other peoples during this period, so it can further be inferred that they remained in solitude on these islands. Dominating the northern part of the centermost islands existed the Albertuns. Maxwaldean Men. United Peoples of Kesh. Gabrielluns.
John Pierre N. ‘26
Heshikiri Hasebe, the Blade of the Oda Nobunaga, Demon King of The Sixth-Heaven
____________________________________________________________________________________ Noah H. ‘28
I am Heshikiri Hasebe, the katana of Oda Nobunaga, Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. I am a weapon of victory, striking down my opponents with swift precision, a tool of death, striking fear into those who challenge me. I am proud. I am also scarred, for I have seen the twisted sight of war, heard the sad wails for mercy, and smelled blood and hate, mixing into the rotten stench of death. The bodies of loyal soldiers lay on the ground of the battlefield, each carrying their own wounds, physically, and mentally some praying, some saluting their lords, but all, carrying a dark look in their eyes, a look of nobility and pride, but also regret and sadness. I know this feeling… No…I am the cause of this feeling, for I am the demon blade. I am…Heshikiri Hasebe!
Jackie R. ‘28
Sunset City
____________________________________________________________________________________ Mia S. ‘28 The birds sing their song As they soar High above the sky. Caw, Caw. The wind Blows Swaying the trees, Gently. The rooftops, Empty, Deserted, People in their homes. The sun lowers, Colliding with the rooftops. Filling the rooftops With an eerie But gorgeous Hue. I sit On the rooftops. Waiting, Wishing, Hoping That this sunset would last forever. I let the wind whip my hair As I opened my arms. I stand at the edge, Gazing at the sun colliding with the city. The birds sing their song As they soar High above the sky. Caw, Caw
Finn F. ‘27
The Magnificence of Hannukkah
____________________________________________________________________________________ Zion B. ‘26
Lights up on Miriam, a very articulate fifth-grader, in her baby brother Bart’s nursery, crouching by a changing table daydreaming instead of changing diapers. Miriam: Oh Bart, my little baby brother, you’re the only one in this family who listens to me, but mostly because you can’t leave when I’m talking, or at least until you can crawl. I can’t wait for Hannukah; it’s one of the best feelings on this planet: the hot wax dripping from the colorful array of candles, the smell of fire wafting through the air, the flames flicker through the night as other traditions take place. Mom and Dad grab me by my hands, and we dance around singing about run-away latkes and the Maccabees. They were the soldiers who had oil issues, I guess. When our singing is done, we fill our bellies with potato pancakes slathered in apple sauce, the jelly donuts hiding on the counter in the kitchen. I’m not a big fan of jelly, so Mom always buys some without it. When the meal is done, and the cleaning has been finished, the table is cleared for a huge game of dreidel. By that point in the night, Uncle Craig, Aunt Kim, Chuck, Sabah, and Saftah have come, and the table is cluttered with chairs and chocolate wrappers. Spinning dreidels are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, way better than any Starry Night. As they gallantly spin, caressed by the air, the light of the lamp above the table reflects each side, revealing the Hebrew letters of Gimmel, Shin, Nun, and Hay. It’s a game of chance, and I am always available to take that risk. Once I win, because I always do, and our tummies are full of chocolate, the game comes to a close, and presents are brought into the living room — boxes big and small, wrapped in blues, whites, silvers, and golds, topped with the most festive of bows. We pass them around to the recipients, and you get to watch the smile that consumes everyone’s faces. Everyone in our family is a fabulous gift giver, so I always get magnificent presents. By the end of the night, everyone is overtaken by the kind of exhaustion that is caused by a night full of fun and tradition. We all say our goodbyes, and guess what, Bart?! All of the fun happens again and again, for eight nights straight. Hannukah is the only time everyone is truly happy and at peace, and lucky for me, I always have you. When you’re older, you’ll thank me for this description of the best nights of my life, and you’ll understand in a deep way the joy that overtakes me these eight nights of the year.
A Flow of Roses, excerpt
____________________________________________________________________________________ Saifan M. ‘28
I am Isabel. It was a sunny day for me to be born. There was not a cloud in the sky and the animals were singing songs and more songs in the bright sunlight. You might know my parents, Poseidon and Aphrodite, but this is not their story. This is mine, so let’s dive in. I was a little girl born on the fifth of May. It was a lovely day when I was born. My parents knew what my powers would be when I was born. The most beautiful flowers in all of Enchantia merged to create a bed for me to lie in. Enchantia is located in ocean lands a bit down from Greece; only gods, goddesses, or heroes can see it. In my opinion, it’s the most beautiful place in the world with waterfalls in the skies and oceans running for miles. It’s one of Enchantia’s most beautiful places. You should really go and visit it; wait, never mind, you can’t. Ummmm so what was I talking about? Oh ya, so after we knew what my power would be, we started to help control and understand my power. We practiced my powers. I was breaking the practice dummies with roses. I didn’t even know I could do that. I was breaking dummies so that I can practice for Superhero School or the School of Gods and Goddesses. I call it the School of Gods and Goddesses. I have always wanted to go there. I heard it was really cool. It was at the age of 18 that I got a letter saying that I would be attending the School of Gods and Goddesses of Encanhtia. I was so happy, I was jumping with joy in the sky and making a rose world in my meditation garden. I have a meditation garden to control my powers, just in case my emotions get a hold of me. After I told my parents, I started to pack even though school started in three weeks. I was just so excited that every time we had dinner random flowers would rise from the table because I was so happy. In my defense, I was only 18 and could not really control my powers that much. After we found this news, my dad and I started practicing. He thought I was ready, so we tried. Let’s say that it didn’t go so well, and after two minutes, I was drenched in water. It was not appealing. The next day, I was so close to beating him. I learned this new move to beat my dad, but I didn’t do it very well. The move was to create a vine that wrapped onto his leg and arm that would flip him over and hit him in his stomach, but I hit the arm, missed the leg and flipped him, and missed the ending rose hit. So, it did not go well, but I was learning and improving for school.
A Flow of Roses, excerpt, continued
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Before I knew it, it was time to leave for school. I was so happy, my face lit up like the sun was in me. After a little while, we were at the school. I read the name once more to appease myself School of Gods and Goddesses of Enchantia. I couldn’t believe it was time I say my goodbyes and walk into the school, not knowing what I would find or what would happen. I turned back to say my last goodbye, and I saw my family was already gone. All I saw was an indistinct sea of people coming into the school. I didn’t know where they went. I tried to leave the building, but after trying and trying, I finally fell to the floor. When I woke up, I saw other kids with me in a large bed in a bright white room that looked like it stretched for miles. Some of the other kids were awake but some of the other kids were asleep. I looked around to find something that can help me get out of here. After a while, all the kids are awake, and the chains on us had been released. I had never been in chains, and I did not like it. My hands were cramping so much that I could barely feel my hands. A few seconds later, a big voice from a television starts to talk to me, startling us all.
Luke T. ‘27
My Christmas List
____________________________________________________________________________________ Leila I. ‘27
(Lights up on a 10 year old girl named Athy, dressed in all Christmas patterned clothing and prancing back and forth through the living room, talking to herself.) Ohhhh my gosh!!! It’s almost here; it’s almost Christmas!! (Pause. She scans the room.) Wait a minute! I’m so unprepared! Where did I put the cookies? The MILK? Are there enough ornaments on the tree? Oh no, no, NO! I have to fix everything! I have to be ready! (Deep breath.) Calm down Athy, calm down. You are prepared; you’re fine. (Beat.) Hmm… (Beat) Let me count the gifts and make sure I have everything nicely wrapped for my family. (Pause.) There’s Mom’s…. Ohhhhhhh yeah…she’s gonna LOVE the broom; it’s perfect for cleaning the house. OH! And Dad’s! I got him the coolest buckle ever, with sparkly gold and silver gems I made personally! Hmm, and Jeremy’s gift is the best thing I could think of. It came from (Puts a hand on chest.) the heart… PERFUME! (Sarcastically.) Finally, he’ll actually be bearable to be around… ugh… I get nightmares just thinking about how awful his room smells. (Serious tone, hand goes back down to her side). OKAY!, so all the gifts are ready and wrapped up. I’ll put them under the tree before I go to bed. I’m sure everyone will love them. But what about the other preparations?! For Santa?! (Stops pacing in the middle of the room, looking around) The stockings are all hung up, EVEN decorated with large, sparkling and shiny name tags (Muttering.) in case Santa can’t see too well (Back to regular pitch), and nice and ready to be filled to the brim with candy! (In a daze.) Oh yeah… it’s gonna taste sooooo yummy! (Shakes head and is knocked out of daze.) Hmm, what else… The absolutely delectable, made-from-scratch cookies (Whispering.) that I may have eaten one of (Regular pitch) are placed nicely AND conveniently beside the tree with a mug of warm milk. So why do I feel like I’m missing something?! Everything’s here… (Silence, as she thoroughly scans the room for 15 seconds, then, panicked.) OH NO!!! I FORGOT THE CARROTS FOR RUDOLPH!!
Ace P. ‘27
Craziest Dreamiest Poem
____________________________________________________________________________________ Norah M. ‘29 Potato clock strikes 5, Huskies chase flying cats, To the Passover seder. “Shalom, Shalom!” They bark in the giant peach To Your Mother. Pinky toes follow English Bouncy Balls, Boing, boing Eris is pulling the tide, Crash, swish Waves, For Royal Blue Dumplings. Toilet paper is doing The Wave, Huskies on Advil playing Toca Boca, Your Mother, Screaming, “Hexagons, Are The BESTAGONS.”
Seeing Climate Change
____________________________________________________________________________________ Isabelle G. ‘28
I The ocean As blue as a sapphire High expectations for what’s underneath But under the surface It is dull Once vivid coral, now decayed And not a fish insight Just one of the sights of climate change II Australia! What a beautiful place Home to kangaroos, koalas and so much more The hottest country in the world But with the bitter heat Comes blazing bush fires 15 million + acres burnt to a crisp If only we could have helped those animals III It hurts My home being torn apart I do my part But it’s never enough Is it worth it? By the time I’m old enough Will there still be tigers and elephants and bees?
Seeing Climate Change, continued
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IV 40 years That’s how long it will take for all of Antarctica to melt The earth is overheating Suffocating itself in gasses Too much coming in Not enough getting out V There is an island in the middle of the pacific ocean, 3 times the size of France Its 1.6 million square kilometers and it’s all made up of trash, the colorful stench of the plastic can be detected from miles away VI It is sad But we did this to ourselves We let our planet go into this state of disarray The human race The most advanced and the most destructive There are no words to describe the tragedies Except “it’s our fault”
August T. ‘27
Zihou D. ‘29
Didgeridoo
____________________________________________________________________________________ William S. ‘28
IDidgeridoo, sitting on the side of a chatty river bank. watching curious natives, seeing ships land on the coast. IIDidgeridoo, stands tall as the natives are stripped of their rights. IIIDidgeridoo, lying in a healing hut, as more and more get infected, diseases as painful as burns. IVDidgeridoo, in a tent, hearing the sharp screeches of genocide.
Didgeridoo, continued
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VDidgeridoo, watching others die from the bloody taste of tainted water. VIDidgeridoo, destroyed. in a dry river bed. the sour sight of it, horrifying. VIIDidgeridoo, the last item remaining of the indigenous peoples.
Keira P. ‘26
Theme for Going to Bed
___________________________________________________________________________________ Charlie N. ‘27
My Dad told me to go to bed. Go to bed - what? I’m not tired; I am still in a game. I am on the phone. What bed? It’s too early. Please, ten more minutes. Am I tired? Or do I just want to stay up? I should go to sleep, but do I? No, I don’t of course not, but I should.
Brawl stars power drills!!
____________________________________________________________________________________ Aiden O. ‘29
Rushing to get There early, The aliens were griddying, To the -Down-House In the Cave Of Crystals The Rock Of UFOs, Washed Away In A Tsunami Full of hexagons
Brawl stars power drills!!, continued
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For Teddy Bear Day is here’ Where everyone says “Hola,” To celebrate Apollo And his son Who cured Hypothermia While on his yoga ball, Eating a Boston Creme Pie That is made sky blue With the use of A self leveling Made by the power of lungs And Power Drills That Were Used to make B-R-A-W-L S-T-A-R-S
construction laser
Lonely Colorado
___________________________________________________________________________________ Charlotte F. ‘28 I am bumpy like cobblestone, mysterious like a haunted house. I am a mountain. My hair is white. My head is very cold. Whenever people go up to my hair, they always bring serious gear. My friends keep telling me, that I am too tall so I tell them that they are just too small. I am only 14,000 feet. I know mountains whose hair touches space. My friends say they wish to be up here. I wish I was down there. I am lonely, No one dares To climb up here. I never see anyone. I am covered with animals, such as snakes waiting to kill. Every day, I watch the clouds, that is all I can see. At night, the clouds disappear. I stare at the little ranch. I feel as though
Lonely Colorado, continued
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it is my only true friend. I can’t tell with the horses. Some love me; some hate me. They love what I give themrivers, food, space. I am dangerous. I have poison, cliffs, steep hills, hills where you can not see beyond, trees so tall and pointed they can poke your eye out. I am waiting for that one person, someone who dares to climb up here. I have wonders as well: rivers filled with fish, hikes that give you a new perspective, animals, glaciers that will not be here for too long. I have some downsides, but I am also filled with joy. I have all the best weather hot like a nice summer day, cold like a day in Greenland, crispy like a nice fall day. You choose.
Kareena P. ‘26
Birdseye
____________________________________________________________________________________ Lola F. ‘27
Think before you talk. You’re looking from another angle, high up like a hawk. But if you land on the ground, and see it from our view, you’ll see the lingering effects of all you say and do. Just because you have a different past doesn’t mean you need to hide. Your fate is set in stone. Now, prepare to hear your lies. You call us big and mean and ignore the facts you have. You use your friends as backup, say sorry once, then continue with your wicked ways.
Abigail N. ‘26
Unfinished
____________________________________________________________________________________ Jonah G. ‘27
It winter-spread across a barren page, the foundering island left forlorn, alone. And then another comes to make a mound of clashing changing consonantal sound and striving to find the words to string to words with no sign but to make the author heard. Fountain spelling line that follows line and coming, follow line for one design. But it is pain to find a followed path and after pain comes fierce red, fiery wrath. But string then comes to bind all entered noise to show that I convince you; I have poise. And from the fountain’s splashing in the sea, its voices sing across now mournfully. A final purpose comes through fluffy rhymes repeated oh, so many, many times. The fountain dries; the red sparks then release as writing cools to well-known final peace. I’ll start again; this was a golden try. But to you, poem, I now must say--
Skylar v. ‘26
Hackley Middle School Tarrytown, NY