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Saturday Newsletter: February 27, 2021


Saturday Newsletter: February 27, 2021
February 27, 2021
By Stone Soup Editors
Winding Staircase (Canon Powershot G10), photographed by Jeremy Nohrnberg, 10, (Cambridge, MA) and published in the February 2021 Issue of
Stone Soup
A note from Caleb
I wanted to start out by briefly recognizing the work you continue to do in the Writing Workshop. As a student at the University of California, Santa Cruz, I have taken numerous writing workshops, and few come close to the level of genius you routinely display in just
thirty minutes. It seems every week your work gets more original, nuanced, and engrossing. I look forward to hearing you read your work again next week. ....

United States , United Kingdom , Shelby Miller , Amber Zhao , Jeremy Nohrnberg , Ellen Hagan , Katie Pausin , Adam Rex , Canon Powershot , Nami Gajcowski , Abhi Sukhdial , University Of California , Children Art Foundation , Stone Soup Inc , Winding Staircase , Santa Cruz , Book Reviewers , Young Bloggers , Three Days Till , Soup Book , Contest Nami Gajcowski , Art Foundation Stone Soup Inc , ஒன்றுபட்டது மாநிலங்களில் , ஒன்றுபட்டது கிஂக்டம் , ஷெல்பி மில்லர் , அம்பர் ழோ ,

Finishing a Poem


Finishing a Poem
I have carved truth and beauty into yellowed parchment,
having created something unique, vital, simple, complex, and bottomless
as a fallen flower. The jagged edge of brokenness
intrudes upon my soul, and dusty fingerprints outline
the soul of this poem. The unbroken stretch of time
has not erased these words eclipsing
the sun and moon alike.
What troubles they must have faced; what creative, poetic troubles
would have gnawed on that author spirit
like moss and ivy on a house! Impossible feats are possible
viewed the right way, melding dark and light
into lines that are like a wishing well and looking glass. ....

Amber Zhao , அம்பர் ழோ ,

The Memorial Tree


The Memorial Tree
Battered plate, battered life. Plumed reed and paperbark
surround that memorial, certain heirs of late afternoon and evening
drifting like phantoms around that blurred steel lake,
now ancient with new faces, my face lost in that ripple of glass,
ripple that comes to all living things, the realization
that life is not what you expect, and that glorious crown,
charming everyone with heart-struck bedazzle,
may tomorrow just be a faded visage of an earlier hope,
withheld by a greater force, propelling everything.
That tree waits, patiently, for its reincarnation as something,
something, at least, for those cold words on the memorial do not signify ....

Amber Zhao , அம்பர் ழோ ,