☃funky fresh!
  • euphony 2022
  • euphony 2021 ▼
    • the team
    • about euphony
    • i. zenosyne
    • ii. moribund
    • iii. eunoia
    • iv. chrysalism
    • v. saorsa
    • vi. redamancy
  • euphony 2020 ▼
    • table of contents
    • about euphony
    • poetry
    • poetry [ekphrastic]
    • prose [short stories]
    • prose [microfiction]
    • photo essays
  • euphony 2019 ▼
    • staff
    • mission
    • thank you
    • table of contents
    • capsule i
    • capsule ii
    • capsule iii
    • capsule iv
    • teachers!
  • euphony 2022
  • euphony 2021 ▼
    • the team
    • about euphony
    • i. zenosyne
    • ii. moribund
    • iii. eunoia
    • iv. chrysalism
    • v. saorsa
    • vi. redamancy
  • euphony 2020 ▼
    • table of contents
    • about euphony
    • poetry
    • poetry [ekphrastic]
    • prose [short stories]
    • prose [microfiction]
    • photo essays
  • euphony 2019 ▼
    • staff
    • mission
    • thank you
    • table of contents
    • capsule i
    • capsule ii
    • capsule iii
    • capsule iv
    • teachers!

mirth·ful


so shall it stay for years and years,
a smile I etch upon my lips.
by Telishya Herbert, Class of 2020
The Sunrise of Spring
by Jiaqi Liu, Class of 2020

The Sunrise of Spring
I saw the sunrise, by the coast of the Plymouth Sea,
The flashes of sunlight, break through the shackles of clouds,
Drenching the continent, bringing warmth and lightness.
The mayflowers, dots and dots of white, open their pedals shyly as they adorned the normal
green.
The soaring eagle, with its eyes reflecting those beams of sunlight, poses its shadow over the
hills and valleys.
The harmonic heaven, covers the Midgard like a pale blue valve, sees its reflection from the
mirror-like lake.
When the last moonlight of winter fades, the first sunshine of spring will appear.
The creeks have unfrozen, while the songs of the birds echo,
The coldness has passed, the spring has returned,
And all will soak in the rain for the season of growth.

​


The Brook 
by Sebastian Armstrong, Class of 2020
​
Golden sunlight draws long shadows across a newly fallen tree on the path
It’s layered with tinted moss that crunches under my fingers

I can hear the water whispering to me
​Like sifted grains of fine sand pouring onto a drum
​
Standing on the bridge, I can see the river moving between the planks
Underneath, white rapids disperse into a pond of bubbling ripples

Upstream, the water pools like black ink
Before gushing into a gaping mouth
           Of two
              Jagged
                   rocks

I sit by the pool
Where twilight seems to diffuse into the liquid
I lean over to see myself with wings of branches
A droplet falls from my fingertips and sends ripples through the reflection

There is a giant who lives across the bank
His face of stone is half submerged
Warped plates of charcoal moss the size of my palm cover his back

Downstream, I climb atop a flat stone nestled into the shore
A crippled tree reaches for the sunlight, leaning across the river

Behind my rock, the brook’s flow branches off
The water collects into a small basin before pouring itself over a dam of roots
Leaves and bark and bits of moss and twigs get caught while the current flows unimpeded
It seems that, for water, there is no tomorrow
I think the tree here has learned from the water
Despite half of her trunk now lying across the brook,
a bridge for the squirrels,
Flexible shoots of maroon buds grown still.
Unlike me, water accepts every passing moment for what it is and moves on
If I were like water, I would never be bothered again!

A thin little creature just catches my eye.
He lands on my notebook trying to find a way back to his home in the moss
There is another one too on my leg!
She is frenzied, waving around her antennae only to climb higher up to my elbow
We should learn from these insects
Though, like them, we are always searching our environment,
We too often think of the future, oblivious to what we are doing in the now
Fluid as the stream, the future is merely a reflection of the imagination
While the past lurks in our present shadows
We ignore the obvious place where we belong
Our home among the tangible




​The Narrator’s Scheme
by Audrey Gould, Class of 2021
​
Characters (
in order of appearance):
Mary -
A young woman from Boston, MA. She is precocious and outspoken, and thinks fast on her feet. Works as a U.S. history teacher, teaching eleventh graders in a public school. Also works for a secret agency designed to keep history from being changed. As a result, she knows almost everything there is to know about history.
Guard 1
Guard 2
Narrator -
A bit of a troublemaker who does not take his job very seriously. As a result, he often causes problems or gets in trouble. Part of the same agency as Mary, but works for a different division. Still in training to become a full narrator.  

The stage lights up, revealing an old courthouse in Salem Village, Massachusetts, 1692 at stage left. The stage is dimly lit, and a spotlight is pointed at right wing, where Mary enters, escorted by guards. They are dressed in time-appropriate clothing, Mary looking rather disheveled. The guards are holding Mary, and she stumbles between them to center stage.
MARY
Hey! Let me go!
[She continues struggling against the guards holding her arms. They push her forward and she stumbles, but stays on her feet.]
GUARD 1
[taunting] What are you gonna do, witch? Curse us?
MARY
[exasperated] I’m not a witch! They’re not even rea-
GUARD 2
[Cutting her off] Be quiet!
GUARD 1
[irritably] Clearly, witches are real; you are living proof.
MARY
I am not a witch!
[NARRATOR strolls on casually, looking around. MARY and GUARDS fall silent, frozen. NARRATOR smiles at audience.]
NARRATOR
My, what a beautiful day it is here in Salem! I wonder if anything interesting is happening.
[Turns and pointedly looks at MARY and GUARDS. Watches with interest at side of stage.]
GUARD 1
[irritated] What are you even talking about? Of course you are.
GUARD 2
[rolls eyes] Don’t listen to her, witches don’t make sense.
[They freeze again.]  
NARRATOR
Ah yes, the witch trials of Salem Village. What an…. Interesting time. All the accusations and convictions against those poor girls, just like our friend Mary here. She’s been accused of being a witch. But that simply isn’t true. These guards really are idiots. They should listen to her, she knows what she’s talking about. [Turns back and watches with interest.]
MARY
I know what’s wrong!
GUARD 1
[frowns] With who?
MARY
The girls! The ones who were ‘cursed’ or whatever. I know what’s wrong with them!
GUARD 2
How would you know? Did you curse them? Is that why they’re acting like this, because of you?
MARY
No! I didn’t do anything!
GUARD 2
Well, clearly you did or you wouldn’t be here, now would you?
MARY
But I know how to help them!
[MARY and GUARDS freeze.]
NARRATOR
[Now sitting on edge of stage.]
I did say the guards were idiots, right? ’Kay, just checking.
GUARD 2
[accusing] How do you know how to fix them? Because you cursed them?
MARY
I didn’t curse them!
GUARD 1
What do you mean, you can fix them?
MARY
They’re not witches. And I know how to help them!
GUARD 2
Don’t listen to her, she’s crazy.
[GUARD 2 pushes MARY towards court building. GUARD 1 follows. They go inside, put MARY in a chair.]
GUARD 2
Stay here.
[GUARD 2 leaves stage left. GUARD 1 stays.]
GUARD 1
[wait until GUARD 1 is off-stage; quietly] Can you really fix them?
MARY
[loudly] Yes!
GUARD 1
Shhh!
MARY
[whispered] Sorry.
GUARD 1
How can we fix them?
NARRATOR
[MARY and GUARD 1 freeze] Oh, finally! Someone with some common sense!
MARY
You believe me?
GUARD 1
No. But I don’t believe in witches either.
MARY
These girls are cursed.
GUARD 1
But I thought you said-
MARY
They weren’t cursed by witches. They aren’t real. Those people on trial, they didn’t curse them. I didn’t curse them. But I know who did.  
GUARD 1
And why should I trust you?
MARY
You don’t really have any other choice, do you?
GUARD 1
I could just ignore you and leave.
MARY
Then I’d just escape and you’d get in trouble. It’d be really easy too. I could get out of here in like, five minutes.
GUARD 1
[staring blankly]  Um…. okay, I’ll stay I guess.
MARY
Good. Now-
GUARD 1
[interrupting] Witches really aren’t real?
MARY
No.
GUARD 1
But-
MARY
Look, we can get into that later. But right now, I need your help.
GUARD 1
What do you need me to do?
MARY
I need you to get all the things on this list.
[With difficulty, MARY pulls a scrap of paper out of her pocket and hands it to GUARD 1]
GUARD 1
And this stuff will fix them?
MARY
It will, after I turn it into a potion.
GUARD 1
I thought you weren’t a witch.
MARY
I’m not.
GUARD 1
Then how are you going to make a potion?
MARY
[slightly sarcastic] Mix all the ingredients together and stir.
GUARD 1
[annoyed] I’m serious.
MARY
So am I. This will protect them from what’s cursing them. It will drive it away, and hopefully it won’t come back because, if it does, this town will be cursed forever.
GUARD 1
And what exactly is cursing them?
MARY
[uncomfortably] It’s not important.
GUARD 1
[warningly] Mary…
MARY
[sighs] Look, if I tell you, it’ll just freak you out. Trust me when I tell you that you’re better off not knowing.
GUARD 1
Fine. How do you know all of this anyways?
MARY
[uncomfortably] I just do.
[GUARD 1 looks at her. She sighs.]
MARY
[muttered] I’m from the future.
GUARD 1
The…… What?
MARY
[sighs] The future.
GUARD 1
[stammering] The future?! How did you get here?
MARY
It’s kind of a long story…
[MARY and GUARD 1 freeze.]
NARRATOR
She’s right, it is. And very confusing. There’s some portal thingy with time and physics I think? I don’t know, it gives me a headache. [frowns, turns back to them]
GUARD 1
So?
MARY
Look, it’s not important how I got here. What is important is that I can help you. Do you want it or not?
GUARD 1
[stammering] I guess.
MARY
Good. Now, go get the things on that list.
GUARD 1
What about you?
MARY
Are you kidding? I’m fine. I’ve endured way worse than this. You are very bad at your job.
GUARD 1
Hey!
MARY
Don’t look offended! You’re literally helping me right now; you’re not even supposed to be talking to me. [sarcastically] I’m a witch, remember?
GUARD 1
Oh. Right. I’ll go now.
[GUARD 1 hurries off stage left.]
MARY
Well, I guess I just have to sit here all by myself now. Whatever shall I do?
[NARRATOR strolls over to her.]
NARRATOR
Well, hello Mary.  
MARY
Ugh, it’s you.
NARRATOR
[offended] That’s not a very nice way to say hello.
MARY
Well, I’m sorry, but you’re the one who ruined my life, remember?
NARRATOR
[feigning ignorance] Whatever do you mean?
MARY
Oh, come on. I know what you did.
NARRATOR
I’m sure I have no clue what you’re talking about.
MARY
[turns to him; shouting] You sent me here!
NARRATOR
I did do that, didn’t I?
MARY
Yes! Now send me back!
NARRATOR
Now, why would I do that?
MARY
You know as well as I do if I fix these girls, it will change history, and you also know that we can’t do that!
NARRATOR
Well, one small tweak won’t change too much, will it?
MARY
Yes, it will! Even a small change can cause irreversible damage. You can’t change a thing!
NARRATOR
[whining] But I want to.
MARY
Why?
NARRATOR
[muttering] Cause it’s fun.
MARY
[at a loss for words, stammering] Wha- you want to change history because it’s fun?!
NARRATOR
Maybe.
[MARY glares at NARRATOR.]
[sighs] I’m bored.
MARY
You can’t change things because you’re bored!!!
NARRATOR
Why not? You are.
MARY
[offended] I am not bored! You sent me here and I am just trying to get home. To do that, I had to get rid of the guards, which I did. Besides, you know that’s not how it works. You will ruin history, and then you will get in trouble, and then you’ll be demoted to janitor or something, which actually will be boring.
NARRATOR
But-
MARY
No buts! Your job is to narrate! Not to change. You sit and talk and say what’s happening. That is it, you don’t interfere!
NARRATOR
[grumpily] Fine.
MARY
Good. Now, how do I get home?
[NARRATOR shifts uncomfortably. MARY glares at him.]
NARRATOR
[uncomfortably] We haven’t covered that part in training yet.
MARY
[confused] What do you mean, training?
NARRATOR
[hesitantly] Well, I’m not a full narrator yet.
MARY
[dangerously] Are you saying you don’t know how to get me home?
NARRATOR
[in a small voice] Yes.
MARY
YOU MEAN I’M STUCK HERE???!!!

THE END


To All the Schools I've Ever Loved
by Esther Lee, Class of 2019
Seoul, I sometimes thought we would end up Gangnam Style,
But clearly, we were not a match.
You made me study a little crazy
Now, I look back and I gasp.

I was never cut out for all your wild wild nights,
Graphing parabolas until 11 or 12
Though you gave me some fun highlights,
Girl, am I glad I dodged that helve.

And you North Haven, you showed me living is more than being a smarty,
Because every 100th day of school or Valentine’s day was due for a party.
You taught me how to celebrate the little things in life,
But I guess Connecticut was just not cut out to be my wife.

Sharon oh Sharon do I hate you and I love you,
Who taught me the hardest lessons of grit and tenacity.
So I remember to stay grateful as I bid adieu
You equipped me for the world, bending my mental capacity.

Now, one taught me dedication
One taught me celebration
And one taught me MLA citation.

And all in all,
These times were truly the best.
So I say thank you y’all
As I eagerly look onto the rest.

​
Memory Lane Needs New Houses
by Aly Coleman, Class of 2019
  
Stop trying to fit into places you’ve outgrown,
The playground, those jeans, behind a desk and chair.
The time has come to stop the watch,
And watch for new spaces, new faces,
But not without remembering the old;
Freshman year redefining ‘fresh off the boat’
But that ship has sailed.
Sophomore year you made friends, you made friends
You made enemies…
Junior year your circle grew small, but close,
Like Dr. Cho’s closed fist against everyone else's.
Senior year, as this journey ends,
You are like a camel trying to fit through the eye of a needle.
Learn to let go.
Don’t lose yourself.
Be free like your first pair of rollerskates in K5,
Like your words in first grade,
Like your socks in third,
Like Mrs. Henry’s dentures across the classroom in fourth...
You can remember,
You can remember.
But make new memories,
Don’t relive.
Don’t forget.

​
  
A Tribute to My Neighbors
by Rhia Malhotra, Class of 2019
      I would like to thank the elderly couple next door, Ruth and Jud—but especially Ruth—for being the kindest neighbors I could ever ask for.  I have to accept that I will never fully appreciate everything they’ve done for me, because they were most influential in my life when I was a child. About eight years ago, my family went through some misfortune. My mother had suffered from some serious injuries and for months she couldn’t leave the hospital. My dad was overwhelmed worrying about her recovery and the steadily accumulating medical bills. He spent hours visiting her every day. My sister and I often wouldn’t see him come home until late at night. Although my parents did their best given the circumstances, I could have easily fallen victim to stress, loneliness, and depression if not for my neighbor Ruth.
      For about three months, Ruth took on the responsibilities that neither of my parents could attend to. If she found it difficult, she never showed it. She never made me feel like I owed her something in return. I think part of the reason why I took so long to realize what she’d done for me is because she was so effective at this and I took her kindness for granted.
     Most mornings, she drove me and my sister to school. After school, we’d often stay at her house for hours. If we didn’t come over, we were reminded that she was only a phone call away. I always looked forward to visiting her and her husband because they had a really cool house. It was the coziest place I’d ever been in. They had plush red rugs, exposed wood, and large, cushy couches. Going there, I felt like an explorer resting in a log cabin. So when they invited me over for meals, I never refused. I had my first tomato-mozzarella-basil sandwich across from them at their wooden dining table while they patiently listened to me complain about my sister. The next day, as soon as I saw my dad, I begged him to recreate it. It’s still one of my favorite sandwiches today.
     Practically every week, Ruth and I would bake muffins together from scratch—chocolate chip, blueberry, or plain. These were the best muffins, the really big ones with crystallized sugar on top. Which is good, because I refuse to eat any smaller than the size of my fist. When we were done baking, I’d eat until I couldn’t move, and then she’d send me home with a basket brimming over with unreasonably large muffins. I brought so many home so often that my family rarely finished them all. But I never got tired of baking with Ruth. Now it’s one of my favorite pastimes.
      She went out of her way to make sure that I was happy and actually paid attention to my interests. At the time, I was really into drawing. I boasted about my artwork to anyone who was willing to listen and often worked in front of her. One day I came to her home and noticed a package of three coloring boards—the nice velvet ones—and to my delight, she told me that one of them was for me. The other two she had saved only for her grandchildren. At the time I was actually a little upset that I didn’t get all three. I didn’t realize how thoughtful her gift was.
      For three months, Ruth and Jud made me feel safe and happy and cared for during what should have been one of the most stressful periods of my life. But thanks to them, some of my simplest and happiest memories are from that time. My neighbors have done much more for me than I will likely ever understand. Looking back on my life, I cannot think of any big, coming-of-age moments that changed me into who I am today. It’s really the little, dedicated gestures that I remember the best. I chose to honor Ruth and Jud because they have shown me the power that these deceptively small, repeated acts of kindness hold. I will forever strive to lead my life with their same open heartedness.

​
Spring Unfolding
​by Rachel Wachman, Class of 2020​
Just a Stroke
​by Ana Bolt, Class of 2020
Crystal stars sprinkle across bent blades of tarnished hopes
Long forgotten amidst frozen fragments of faded greenery
Colorless ghosts graze the graveyard of Yesterday’s dreams
Buried beside Love and Truth.

The world – erased by Winter’s merciless gale –
Re-drawn in an instant.

Falling into Fear’s outstretched arms
Wary to join that unbearable battle
Biding Time, savoring Earth’s embrace –
No longer.

Verdant tips protrude from underneath icy veils
Refusing to be struck down by Nature’s wrath
Shoving upwards past Trepidation,
Spurning Fear


Keep pushing, force yourself onward
Baby buds rise against the world
Fighting frigid blankets that drape the landscape in white,
Fighting for Tomorrow
For freedom
Fighting for the chance to unfold

Fighting for the flower every bud can become

​
I was nine
I went to bed
My sister went to bed
She woke me up from all the noise
When I woke I didn't feel good
I just layed in bed thinking to myself
It’s just a stomach bug


It’s no big deal
It got worse through the night
I decided to go in the hall  
I stood in the hall for 30 minutes
Thinking this is just a stomach bug


My parents were watching Grey's Anatomy downstairs
i was upstairs in the hallway
I went half way down the stairs to ask if i could get a bowl
i was very very slow asking
i really didn't know where I was
I really didn’t know when I was asking
I really didn’t know who I was asking
I really didn’t know who I was
I couldn't hear myself
I couldn't hear my parents
But I knew they said yes
I went upstairs into the kitchen
I got the bowl
I walked to my bed
I suddenly stopped at my bed frame
I feelings I had suddenly stopped
I felt empty
I fell down and hit my head
My sister looked down on me from her bed
She yelled something out
I blacked out for a couple of minutes
I woke up in my dad's lap downstairs
I fell asleep again
I woke up in my parents bed in the morning
My mom is trying to wake me up
I was trying so hard to wake up
My mom tried so hard to wake me up
she pushed me off the bed
I blacked out again
I woke up again on my moms lap in the car
I blacked out again
I woke up again
Thinking to myself
This is the end of me
I'm not going to see my parents
I'm not going to see my sister
I'm not going to see my brothers
Ever again
They’re not going to see me ever again
And it was not a stomach bug


I knew at that time if I closed my eyes again
I wouldn't wake up again
So I started crying
So my parents wouldn't worry
I knew my parents would worry either way
But I still cried until I got to the hospital
We were outside of Children's Hospital  
My dad picked me up
He ran me into the emergency room
I was on a bed crying my eyes out
There was nurse holding my hand
I fell asleep
I was in ICU for 4 or 5 days
The doctors said I had a stroke
It paralysed my right side
I couldn’t speak
I couldn’t eat
I couldn’t think of where I was
I couldn’t even stick out my tongue
I almost had a tube stuck up my nose for the rest of my life
the doctors say I wouldn't live
She’s never going to walk again
She’s never going to use her hand
She’s never going to talk
She’s never going to be the same
To this day
I can walk
I can eat
I can use my arm
I can talk...a lot
But I’m not the same
I’m better!

​
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