Best written by a Junior:
The tide sways
with the beat of seagull wings,
soaring over the harbor.
A fisherman yells,
As he dings his bell,
on the back of his boat.
Anacortes water turns to mist,
Pricking the forest.
Deep in the woods,
Twigs crack,
Roots reach,
Birds hum their quiet songs.
Trees lean towards each other
and rustle with conversation.
forest to water, lake to ocean,
ocean to community.
Madison Berris
