From the Lighthouse
by Noah Secondo
A storm of sand surrounded us, Forcing our eyes shut as our feet Continued through, forward, pushing Away from the brightened lighthouse. The clouds — far above us — were lost, Yet we still heard the waves, crashing Behind us as the sand wrapped close And tight over our eyes: brown, blue. But I can still remember it: The lighthouse. It still is in me. It’s deep bright light breaks through all: Sand and cloud, brick and windowpane.
Harlequin Ducks — Arav Karighattam
Nature on a grand scale
by Arav Karighattam
One entity defines the possessions of nature
That which no creature can escape
It, in our terms, is called the Universe
In other words, everything that exists
Contained, held within it, is a baobab tree
A roosting of thirty bald eagles;
Each atom of helium in Betelgeuse,
And every grain of sand
More and more, claim after claim,
Laws of relativistic quantum mechanics,
Features of this ownership are quite numerous
That no one has decoded them all
The network and interplay of two given halves
Is so complex, the atomic structure, the truth
Behind our world stays left unknown
Who should we consult?
Just look to the stars
There should lay some hints and clues,
On where and when was the origin
Of such a grand big sea?
Nature, the polymath, should know.
Piping Plovers, Winthrop Beach, Massachusetts — Arav Karighattam
Heat — Selena Zhao