(Courtesy of Photowall)

(Courtesy of Photowall)

Creative Writing

Poem: grim reaper’s webs

webbed row-by-row, hanging from pinpoints under the sky buildings of inky grey and black, swirls melting across their borders a shadow of what-if events drained away breathless, collapse on your back muted, lolls your head, hear the monitor beep… beep… beep… kicking and cursing from behind the glasses hung over your heavy lidded eyes
<a href="https://highschool.latimes.com/author/bmjuniorr/" target="_self">Lauren Lee</a>

Lauren Lee

August 17, 2021

webbed row-by-row,
hanging from pinpoints under the sky

buildings of inky grey and black, swirls
melting across their borders

a shadow of what-if events drained away
breathless, collapse on your back
muted, lolls your head,
hear the monitor
beep…
beep…
beep…

kicking and cursing
from behind the glasses hung over your heavy lidded eyes

Poem: To My Target Panic

Poem: To My Target Panic

I remember the first time I met you, the first Sunday of September. Before we met, archery was predictable; my routine was reliable. The weight of my quiver, the resistance of my string, the curve of my limbs, and Sunday morning practice, it was always the same. But...