you whittle at my skin,
chisel to grain.
veneer falls away,
a jacket to which it’s akin.
through pockets of bark are rays
that shimmer in vain.
against time, they can’t...
A bolt of lightning strikes through the night;
the mice are awoken, the bats take flight.
For miles and miles they hear its scream,
but no one mourns for the tree.
The leaves are...
Bella Angell, Features and Opinion Editor
• December 20, 2017
Are you a real Christmas tree person or an artificial tree person? Most people have a definite opinion on this subject, and it usually stems from what kind of tree their families have. There are many thoughts...
These past few months, I’ve been impatiently counting down the days I have left in this school. With each passing day, I grow more tired of the monotonous drone of classes;...