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My Pond

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The Written Word

The Written Word

Greta Spitz

Pennies green brown and shiny line the pond floor:

Koi fish swim, glowing bronze and white.

Symphonies of bullfrogs and choruses of toads roar, A turtle settles itself on the rock, shifting until it’s just right. The only footprints near the pond are my own; It will stay that way until I am gone.

All the cattails, lily pads and flowers I have grown, The fish I have fed and I have planted the lawn. My hand appears from my pocket, just as it does every morning, And a new penny adds to the pile:

With my wish made, my heart is left soaring.

I leave my pond until once more, the sky turns golden in color.

The Storm

Audrey Hoffsis scratchboard

Nothing Ever Goes as Planned

Henry Hanlon

Nothing ever goes as planned. In this wooded niche above the stream, These useless words in hand, Have done little.

I feel inside me growing still, words that might delight. And as my paper finds the quill, None of them feel right. The wind sings in my ear, I wish I could just forget That path she brought me on. What terrible sorrow it is to remember. How could I ever understand? Maybe tomorrow. Nothing ever goes as planned.

Young Woman with Flowers

Grace Lipson oil

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