By Anson Richman, ’25 Do you see it? Silver towers rising like upturned nails,no, like vines climbing stakes,on an endless quest for the sun, whose light makes them shine brighter.Below them, an endless pool of emerald green. Not just grass, but shrubs,moss that caresses your feet,vines you once were so sure were weeds,and flowers everywhere.…

By Paula Dalzell Villalonga, ’25 During temperamental summersShe rises warmand people tread over her course skinin wheelsShe cries hot tears before middaythat wash the childrenand cloak young lovers in its dewAnd in the afternoonShe grins from the farthest beach east to the farthest beach westso the swimmers can comb her waters as they weave between…