Writing

Yzie Del Rosario ‘25 This is one of three poems that were inspired by a chapter in the novel Valentine.  In that novel, the main character works to reclaim her sense of self after surviving a violent assault. Her mother was deported back to Mexico, and she has only her uncle, a Vietnam war veteran, who…

Cate Holzli ‘25 This is one of three poems that were inspired by a chapter in the novel Valentine.  In that novel, the main character works to reclaim her sense of self after surviving a violent assault. Her mother was deported back to Mexico, and she has only her uncle, a Vietnam war veteran, who is…

Reese Hanson ’25 This is one of three poems that were inspired by a chapter in the novel Valentine.  In that novel, the main character works to reclaim her sense of self after surviving a violent assault. Her mother was deported back to Mexico, and she has only her uncle, a Vietnam war veteran, who is…

Nina deGuzman ’25            When they walk into the room, it is as if the air itself shifts, the world softens. A wave of warmth rolls over me, a lightness I didn’t know was missing. It’s not a sudden thing—it is more like the quiet hum of something familiar that was always there, but hidden beneath…

Lissie Grinstein ‘25 At quarter to eight when the dreaded ringing begins There is less and less light upon our skins The golden glow comes earlier each night Now not even when I take my last bite Entering the tunnel Like braving the jungle Expect there’s no light coming through the canopy I will spend…

Regina De Villasante ‘25            She turned over in bed and looked at the face of the man fast asleep to her right. Soft beams of light danced across his shoulder, painting his dark curls golden. He was snoring right in her ear, but she did not mind. She checked the clock on the bedside table:…

Regina De Villasante ‘25            He had never been here before. Usually, he ended up in the same places. The living room sofa watching re-runs of Friends. Near the fridge with a bowl of leftover pasta by his feet. Under the old fig tree in the backyard on warm summer nights. He was never surprised by…

Jack Kurtz ‘25 I think I’m being haunted— As I walk through the newly fallen leaves Hearing the crackle of every footfall I hear a familiar set following behind I whip around, trying to catch it in the act Nothing I think I’m being haunted As I stare at the full moon Listening to the…

Annabelle Bowman ‘27 In autumn’s crisp embrace, the leaves descend,   A dance of orange and red. With each gentle flutter, they whisper and sigh,   Reminding us softly of how we must try.   A child, carefree, runs through the scattered gold; She trips on a root; her laughter turns cold. But she gathers…

Mia Boltz ‘25            Snow. Snow is quiet, gentle, fragile, soft. Snow is magical.            Through the eyes of my younger self, snow has not only been gorgeous, but it’s been a gateway to other imaginative wonders. Each snowflake has a place where the Whos sing, the Grinch attempts to steal Christmas but is stopped by his…

Hope Luebbe Davidson ‘25 Looking out the window just as you’ve woken up, everything is covered in a blanket of white. For a minute, the world around you is silent and still. But all your memories triggered by the sight of the snow are loud and colorful. Waking up on the first snow day is…

Fiona Bianchi ‘25            I love winter; I love whatever season I am living in. I love the wind, the cold, the rain, ice, snow, and darkness; I love the quiet. I love the dark because it makes me enjoy what little light there is all the more; I love the quiet; it makes me excited…

Jimmy Nguyen ‘25 Soft, slushy, snow. Snow is like a once in a lifetime experience in Seattle. It snows once every blue moon; that is how rare it is, sort of like a random Pokémon card that you unwrapped, trashing it away, not realizing that it was an extremely rare card that cost a pretty…

Marcus Kwon ‘25            The sound of a basketball bouncing on pavement is like music. Rhythmic, steady, imperfect. The echo carries through my memory like a song I’ve always known. I’m 18 now, but I can still see my 11-year-old self chasing that ball down the driveway, the hoop bent slightly down from dunks by kids…

Blake Koehler ‘25            In my opinion, winter is the most interesting season of the year, yet also the calmest and most boring season. I see winter as the season to put in the hard work, the season that you can put in your blood, sweat, and tears to accomplish your goals. It can be very…

Beckham King ‘25            The sound of an old-fashioned phone ringing loudly, echoing across my mind which was not fully conscious yet, but the only call was the one that was waking me up, my alarm. 6:00 am, I looked at my phone only to realize I was late; this was the second time this week…

Savannah Stack ‘25            The rain is tracing down your face, and you smile because you get to experience something you know won’t last forever. That sensation, that moment you experience in time, is a fleeting instant that shall soon come to pass.            This is September.            It wasn’t like I wanted it to end. It had…

Christopher Nicolás ‘28            It was the day of the year when I felt happy (apart from Christmas, when we celebrate someone’s birth). It was the day I felt a connection to other people apart from my mom.            It was Día de los Muertos.            My life was monotonous and disorganized.            The sky was orangish and dark,…

Jules Conklin ’25 I. The first snowfall arrives. It’s quiet. Not even the air stirs. The world feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting. Waiting for me to remember something. I stand at the window, palms pressed against the glass. My cold fingertips tracing the frost, tracing time. What is time, really? If time is…

Lily Stella ‘25            In the heart of a small village nestled among mountains, there lived an old man named Ivan. Ivan was a man of many mysteries and talents, but his most remarkable skill was crafting clocks. But his clocks were no ordinary clocks; they were made to track a person’s lifespan. Every clock was…

Noah Kim ’25             As I entered the house after football practice, I found my parents sitting in front of the television, their faces pale and solemn. Then I saw the breaking news. My thoughts went immediately to Taylor. I pulled up “Tay Tay” from my contacts and pressed call. The phone rang once with…

Nadia Schimmelman ’25 My eyes burn— a single patch of snow travels, chasing an orange ball. I find my certainty to see the flash of snow running towards me is my dog, Sage—camouflaged, far away—she is as white as milk, proximally the shade of eggnog. Squinting, my dad tells me that blue eyes are more…

Mackenzie Leith ’25 I remember my first concert without my parents. I went to see Carrie Underwood at Climate Pledge Arena with my best friend from middle school. I remember feeling nervous without my parents beside me. I felt so small in such a large place with thousands of people. *** My mom still tells…

Asa Desai ’25 The sustain pedal. Essentially, it elongates notes played on a piano. It can transform a happy piece into a melancholy one. It can cause authentic applause. It can make your grandmother cry. It brings humanity, soul, and softness into a piece. A piano is not complete without one, or so I thought.…

Reese Pedersen ‘25

Catie Smolinski ‘25            As women we are fed opinions about who we are meant to be from the moment we open our eyes. Expectations are plastered everywhere, embedded deeply in the core of the sphere where we reside. Our physical environment and the content we consume—whether that is social media or works of entertainment or…

Jules Conklin ’25 I.            The first snowfall arrives. It’s quiet. Not even the air stirs. The world feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting. Waiting for me to remember something. I stand at the window, palms pressed against the glass. My cold fingertips tracing the frost, tracing time. What is time, really? If time is…

Ace MacLean-Cury ‘27 The smell of a Turkey The sound of laughter A gathering of your family in one place for a celebration Being a kid Playing with cousins A time much sweeter than now A dim thought Angry Faces What happens at this celebration now A reason to fight A Day of arguing A…

Ace MacLean-Cury ‘27 Crisp A crisp sweet apple or smell of cinnamon; An autumn tone woven into the air. A smell as somber as it is not. Often spring-smelled, but now not. A mark of new and end alike, Beginning and end of life as we know— As one brings about greens and sweets, the…

Addy Masterson ‘28 Scattered Broken All the pieces of the puzzle Piecing me together Bit by bit Who am I Where am I What am I All the missing pieces Form as one Every piece a different shape Color Feeling All of the pieces and yet I don’t feel whole Rearranging Pieces scattered Lost Hopeless…

Addy Masterson ‘28 I sat down at that table and heard the words I now dread “We have something to tell you.” She’s fine, they said it will be okay They said But how will it be okay when I have to watch the person I love the most hurt that much I will watch…

Libby Jenness ‘25 As my breath leaves my body, I find myself stuck:  Stuck in the past, the future, and everything in between.  I push off the bag and start taking quick steps forward, letting my body take over.  I become tired, my throat starts closing, and black dots dance in my vision. I feel…