Elementia nature



By Lisa Imgrund

I could hear the waves crashing above me as I dove into the deep, dark, sea. I felt the coral so sharp, as I saw my hand glazing over it. There was silence everywhere, yet at the same time, noise sounded in all places. The bright, bold colors of the reefs allowed the tropical fish to blend in. I

In Orchards of Lemon Trees

By Kate Rose

in orchards of lemon trees we tiptoe, under the hanging yellow fruit in blue moonlight, we will stay until orange light leads us inside

in orchards of lemon trees we giggle at your pinched sour face as you taste the bitterness from the tip of your tongue trailing back to your throat

Baba’s Garden

By Clara Rabbani

Egg-yolks blooming in serenity baba’s palms turn upwards black dirt falling on the sun. The fruit of baba’s hands covered in spines twisted but not the wicked way that punctures skin. Serpentine limbs extend in search of hands to hold fingers to suffocate. Pungent soil moistens fingertips incande


By Clara Rabbani

The West, To me, Is Capoeira.

Boundless And filled with Saudade.

It is The macaws Of the Amazon. And the macaques Of the tamarind trees.

In the West, I string words together like beads.


By Isabelle Shachtman

You ask me If I know the way back home from here. I sing the words, “yes, dear” back to you like I’m someone else. You say “alright” because you’ve got nothing else to say right now; I respect that. I keep my eyes on the road. I’m not quite sure where you’re looking at this point


By James Fitzgerald

Montana and Wyoming The sprawling landscape of Yellowstone Against towering mountains Form a place that I’d never seen before The animals and people you meet at pull offs Are what make the experience an experience Waiting for Old Faithful to burst After a long enough time it does The height of th

A Walk

By Rachel Stander

Yesterday, I took a walk. I went through the park, I passed by one empty cup, two used napkins, three cigarette butts. I jaywalked across the street, past the hardware store and into the coffee shop. I ordered a small latte, handed the pretty barista a five-dollar bill and stuffed the change in m

Life Slow Mo

By Ada Heller

Wet hair clings to my cheeks salty from the rain Drops like tears slide down my nose as the gray of the sky peers down upon me Barefoot in the grass for a few moments I forget about the life I am crushing below With my eyes closed I block out the rushing of the highway in the distance and the sch

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

By Elizabeth Yost

Even when she was young, Sonya had never been afraid of the supernatural.


By Kayla Doubrava

I’ve never understood why people are so disgusted by silverfish. I like the little guys. They way they scurry around from place to place, they’ve always got somewhere to be, perhaps because they don’t like where they are. I know the feeling.

Without Heaven

By Ada Heller

I know that when I die I’ll sink into the soil Be eaten by all the things I’ve eaten Become the dirt for all to walk upon I know that my thoughts are just neurons firing That my heart is a collection of molecules that happen to beat but sometimes I look into the sky and wonder how the sun manages


By Katja Rowan

cactus spines pink flowers my quiet is not blurred signs at the edges of interstate when the clouds circle at night pack of dogs i will my body to be prickly pear humidity is saturation saturation of patience saturation tires the rubber that child perches on grass stem working between teeth green


By Haley Claxton

The world comes to life, As a new day dawns; The freeze is now over, Frosty winter now gone.

The creatures all wake From their deep sleep. Now through the land Does warmth truly seep.

Birds start to chirp, The sun lights the sky, The breeze, now calmer, Begins to gently sigh.

Rain Season

By Edward Sapilinga

Drop, drop went the rain Wet ground is so slippery Here comes green all over


By Rachel Franklin

Every day, I walk along the same road, A path of work and play, the route I know. Every day, I carry the same, tiring load, A burden of hopes, fears, and woe.


By Ally Heisdorffer

“It’s your turn,” Addison grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she was planted into. Her eyes were crusted with sleep and she shifted her head over a little to avoid the drool puddle she had accumulated during the night.


By Perry Gross

 I get hit in the face... a lot. Dodge balls, basketballs, volleyballs, tennis balls, doors, walls, bird crap, baseball bats, rogue hands, flying sand, and just about anything else you can think of. Everything just seems to have an affinity for my face.


By Anonymous

You say it makes no difference who I am and how I choose to express it. You’ll say this through clenched teeth. You’ll say this and you’ll tell yourself It’s better that I take my time -now- better that I get it out of my system. Looking back on all of life’s regrets you regret never teaching me


By Erin Ashley

Hawk upon blue sky Soaring above brook and spring On the endless high


By JDC Resident

I want to touch a tree. Not just any tree. A tree with big green leaves. I miss the shade trees give on hot summer days. The way they smelled, not like a flower, just the overall smell of nature. I want to sit on a tree branch and scream. I am free. I want to hug a tree. It may seem hippiesh to y


By JDC Resident

My mom is like binoculars She is always looking out for me My dad is like a unicorn I’ve never seen him I have always wondered what he looks like


By Sarah Rekab

The sea shimmers as if a child, has poured glitter in its soft blue path. Mountains linger over such water and are outlined by a china blue sky. The sun dances across the water, casting this magical scene. A fisherman casts his line in various shades of orange and red. Clap Water collides with th

Mermaid for a Moment

By Paige Bergan

Sunbeam, slices of wet light The coral reef filled with dreams glossy fish murmur- swirling, swishing, swimming envy of the rainbow crimson, sapphire, persimmon, lime Colors never seen by human eyes before Ebony hair dances, harmony to the waves Flipping on her back gaze through the cobalt sparkl


By Yolene Pancarte

When the stars lose a bit of their shine And it comes down on Earth. A horse will rise. A horse white as moon. With a mare grey as a thundercloud. Its hooves will sound like thunder When it canters across the night sky, Its coat glistening in the moonlight. Its eyes will reflect the lightning Whi

Blossoms of Peace

By Yolene Pancarte

Watch them... The pink magnolia blossoms, They’re so innocent Yet we treat them without regards.

Watch us... Our inner turmoil shaking us, Like the wind does the magnolia blossom Uncaring and inevitable.


It Doesn't Matter

By Michelle Moore

It doesn’t matter, When the sun sets to the west It doesn’t matter, How fast the current is in the ocean It doesn’t matter, When a storm passes through the plains It doesn’t matter, The way stars twinkle in the night sky It doesn’t matter, When the sun shines on a sandy beach It doesn’t matter, I

Living Redwood

By Angela Clem

A Giant A Living Freak of Nature A Redwood. Tall, upstanding, huge, strong, ancient At least  2,400 years old People look at it in wonder. “Wow!

One Night in Kentucky

By Emma Malin

Outside there’s a blizzard. We’re on the highway but we’re not moving. There are cars all around us. Five hours, each churns by minute after minute. Nothing to do but stay in the car and watch the snow blow by and try to fall asleep.

Life Under Cloud & Sun

By Lucas Throckmorton

The sun beats down on the snow-covered Colorado peak. Two birds have a lengthy conversation, chirping short replies at one another like two young children arguing over who was first in line. Marmots run and play chase, screeching often out of frustration or to mock the opposition.


By Hannah McCann

Reading should never just be considered an option. A life without reading, not understanding words, only spots on a page, with the power to change worlds, but they’re dead without a voice, no meaning till they’re read.