Leftover*

February 21, 2021


2020 Merit Award
By Alexandra M. Lucas

Left over
Fruit left off the vine too long without being eaten
Left instead to decay
In the back of a crate
In some cheery farmer’s market
With no air conditioning

Almost all sold
We did well
Good enough!

Now I must do the proper thing —
Collapse into myself
On the bruises and patches of skin
That have lost their softness

Fade from view
So the ones approaching ripeness
Won’t be afraid

A cautionary tale

Look away, now
Look away

*Copyright 2020 by Alexandra M. Lucas. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

the basket weaver*

February 14, 2021


2020 Merit Award
By Penelope Keep, Grade 8

behold the basket
gaze upon the careful weave
each piece of cedar bark cut
each wicklike willow strand maneuvered
into its own
the next no different,
not the same

between the folds, each resource glints
giving itself up
being taken in
by the calloused hands who remember
that each tall tree, each abandoned ribbon of sap
creates a bigger, a better, a more beautiful
whole

and the hole, just there, is it also beautiful?
the frustration, the imperfection, the dropped stitch
machines could gloss each one without care,
no thought, no need for a furrowed brow that beads
the racing mind of the man
who sits, surrounded by his own creation
upon the garden he harvests from

*Copyright 2020 by Penelope Keep. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

The Bear*

January 17, 2021


2020 Walk Award
By Suzanne Harris

If grief is an animal, make it a bear
hibernating cold and hard
in the back-cave of your heart.
In the restlessness of spring,
groggy, hungry, it will rise without warning
gnawing its pain straight through.
There will be no escape
for the soft pulsing of your heart
torn and bled by that bear’s sharp incisors.

Grief, the sinner’s corsage —
unresolved guilt, moments which cut like a knife, then
bleed the loss across frozen expanses of forward-time
dancing with shadows from the past.
Memories sharp like razors slice your disbelief
to emptiness, sullen and alone.
The wind, such cool relief, blows
atoms of your loss across the frozen plain.

Some day you will rise above that bed of sorrow,
the sky so blue and bright
all you can see is white, miracle of sun light.
That bear, sated in the warmth
will sit amongst ripe berries on high hills,
at peace, at one, at last.

*Copyright 2020 by Suzanne Harris. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

on the job*

December 27, 2020


2020 Merit Award
By Randy Flowers

there was a time
when I
wore high topped Keds
dirty
filled with
my feet
and the beach

now my shoes are polished
stylish
but they still get
dirty
I go home at night
empty my
shoes of me
become a boy again
as I look
for sand
between my toes

*Copyright 2020 by Randy Flowers. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

Northwest Rivers*

December 20, 2020


2020 Walk Award
By Eugene S. Fairbanks

Skykomish, Stehekin, Snoqualmie,
Wynoochee, Palouse, Okanogan,
Queets, Klickitat, Kootenai, Nooksack,
Sauk, Skookumchuck, Quillayute, Skagit —

Gather moisture in the mountains,
mingle rain with summer snowmelt;
fed by streams that trickle downward,
cold and clear, the waters chatter.

Cascade down through twisting canyons,
scour massive granite boulders,
plunge themselves from rocky ledges,
leap and roar like raging beasts.

Wend their way past peaks and ridges,
tumble through the wooded foothills,
ply vast stands of fir and hemlock —
nourish wetlands at their margins.

Drain broad fertile inland valleys,
spread high water over lowlands,
seek out bays and estuaries,
cycle rainfall to the ocean.

*Copyright 2020 by Eugene S. Fairbanks. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

Toia mai te waka*

November 22, 2020


2020 Walk Award
By Robert Beck

Dig deep
Plant your paddle
Let its roots run long
There is power to be had
When the connection is strong
Through time
Through space
Through water, wood and grip,
Through salt stained breath caressing your lips
Dig deep
Plant your paddle
As you pull your canoe
Can you feel the power
As now the ocean pulls you

*Copyright 2020 by Robert Beck. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

After St. Lucy’s Day, 2018*

September 8, 2019


2019 Merit Award
By Tom Moore

With the final whisper of the night’s
last bell, the church goers gather
with their prayers. Outside

it is cold. Beyond cold, really.
The two gay men with their son
have come to be a part of something

larger than themselves
though they are not
sure what. For most

people here the assumptions made
about an ancient fertility god
don’t translate well into

code. Yet the kids seem to get a kick
out of things. The tree, tastefully done
sketches of Jesus, the programs for those who

don’t usually attend
do not offend. Hiding
out there in the dark is
of course, the thirst.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2019 by Tom Moore. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

the awful days*

August 11, 2019


2019 Merit Award
By Adam McClusky, Grade 11
after Lord Alfred Tennyson

he clasps the crag with crooked hands close to the sun
in the lonely lands far away from everyone’s beef
enjoying the time alone from the people that annoyed
him the most not craving each pestering pitch that
came out during his day and the odd but pitiful
repeated days wondering how they’re going on with
their Day from the selfishness insecure ways with the
weird vibes given off each day crying for one of his
friends to ask him about his day but that won’t change
so he’ll just stay clasped with his crooked hands close
to the sun in the lonely lands not forgetting a bit
but smiling and laughing about those awful
Days.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2019 by Adam McClusky. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

. . . . .
i go to Squalicum high school. I play football i also wrestle and went to state for wrestling. I didn’t really like English but now i like it a little more.

i got my inspiration from the guy in the office that no one likes like in the movies. So he just isn’t noticed and just wants people to notice him.

high school*

July 28, 2019


2019 Merit Award
By Karanjot Mann, Grade 12

all the things i do
i remember the times that were twisted,
thrilling, and situations with life turning
after all the kanye west we listened to
i knew you would be a dropout
before you even went to school
the spiraling, sizzling sauces
that juice out of that bacon
all you can think of is the thing
i got 100 situations that i’ve exploited
god i’m tired

all the things i do
puff puff puff,
darn weed
you’re a thief in the night not no chicken
no roll call but you hit me up
at three in the morning
hundred and sixty ALL GONE no insurance
butterfly doors open up through the sky
but there is no one to notice

. . . . .
*Copyright 2019 by Karanjot Mann. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.


2019 Walk Award
By Sandra F. Lucke

The green and black brush stroke
sealed the ceramic vase,
as if the outer glassy layer
could never repeat the real shape.

The outline of light, where your hands
reach to hold the hips of the form.

Your eyes satisfied with whites and blues,
foam and cloud at the beach,
you’ve left a cold pot alone
at the edge of the shelf.

Longing for home you open the door
to find fired clay and a silica smile —
your piece of art flushed pink
because you hold it once more.

The outline of light, where your hands
have held the hips of the form.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2019 by Sandra F. Lucke. Broadside illustrated by Megan Carroll.

. . . . .
Sandra F. Lucke lives in the Pacific Northwest as artist, poet, and photographer. Graduated from W.W.U. in Fine Arts. “Long Songs” is a hand bound book art of 31 poems located in special collections at WWU’s library. Sandra’s poem “The Voice” was spoken and choreographed for modern dance performances. “Fingers Touching the Wake of Air” was choreographed for a dance film by Julia Machado and shown at the Pickford Theater. Published poems list includes Jeopardy, The History of Jazz in Whatcom Co., World Peace Poems, and Noisy Water.

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