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St. Andrews Episcopal School Spring Semester 2015

I was lucky to be working with some of these students for the second time. I was also happy that we had some "fresh blood" to shake things up a little. The students really made me laugh with the challenge to write "four lines to make them stay" followed by "four lines to make them go." These writers told their imaginary enemies that they hated them as much as "a spoiled ending" and would rather "drink a spinach, kale, and concrete smoothie than see" them again. But when trying to win them back, one student was willing to go so far as to say, "I love you as much as Kanye West loves himself." I hope you enjoy these pieces as much as I did.

Where I’m From

by Anna Jackson

I’m from too many places to remember.

I’m from half dead grass

spotted with thin oaks

and surrounded by the smell of fresh blooming Jasmine.

I’m from 99¢ sodas after

short walks

on searing pavements

from a ghastly lime green.

I’m from screaming noisy children who run amuck.

I’m from pregnancy craved pancake dinners.

I’m from don’t be shys and go to beds.

I’m from late nights and Skype calls

even though I’ll see them tomorrow.

I’m from virtual friendships.

I’m from punk music pumped up way too loud.

I’m from dark corners and too many fears.

I am from panic attacks and sleepless nights.

I am from failing grades and raining on parades.

I am from unladylike jokes and sarcastic whims and books with worn pages.

I am from dusty horseback

and carefree singing at the top of my lungs

and I couldn’t care less if anyone sees me.


The Saxophone Speaks

By Allison Rauch

Suddenly, my golden body is silent no more.

Suddenly, the warmth of a mouth spreads me like a flower blossoming into spring,

and gentle butterflies caress my keys.

Suddenly, the happiness of a thousand new mothers, a thousand wildflower fields,

a thousand late summer night, a thousand fireflies winds through me

and bursts out my throat in celebration .

Suddenly, I cannot stop and more, more, more, surprise-shared-birthday-cupcakes

more lawns of freshly cut grass

more first stars

pour out of me, filling the room with something that

is tangible and intangible at the same time.

Suddenly, I am becoming another

waterfall at sunrise,

a barefoot run through the rain,

a memory.


I Am From

by Sophia Waugh

I am from the lemony smell of Windex

to the onions browning on the stove.

From the Spanish music playing

to my brother on the phone.

From the old house on Winsted to

my house now on Preston.

From my B- in Science to my A+ in Math.

From the Disney drawings on my desk

to my unused piano sitting all alone.

From my family’s past to the unknown future.

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