A special thank you to our contributing authors and photographers.
Issue: November 2012
by Valerie Dunn ’15, Staff Writer
I let my insides throb with hunger
to better taste the clean and dirty of my lake,
(My palm hovers above the water,
barely a breath between human and nature, aching
as the golden line of pregnant dark
clouds strive against the sunset.
I cannot clutch below the surface,
for the willingness of my fingers
cannot match the tenacity of the lake’s escape.
Humidity is the only tangible thing,
caught in the breathless crevice
between my hot thrumming palm
and the cool unnerving water.)
wild like a woman who has long waited
for something more than the lapping at the shore.
Photograph by Cara Murray ’14.
By: Lisa Anderson ’15
Bodies of water
—I wish I had one.
Fluid, deep, mysterious.
Enthralled by the vastness of an ocean,
the swirling colors of a lake,
the flowing, passionate movement
of a river,
I want to sink beneath the surface.
I want to dive deep
to feel the sandy bottom
—the muck beneath the murk,
the womb of Sandy’s birth.
utterly smooth and still,
like a stare.
More often: trembling,
a violent vibrato,
an aria of waves crashing.
I want to crash back.
The wheel turns before me
—or do I turn before it?
In free fall, we all
when we hit.
Body, of water.