Desk with open book and tea cup.

Desk with open book and tea cup.

Upside down whirl winds through the window—

Cracks in the ceiling 

A broken vase  

Silent moments Remember the days 

Dusty books–and yellow pages 

Falling off shelves into darker places 


Old wood floors that were shiny clean 

Set a mood for this new scene 

Fingers running along a dusty edge 

Ripped pages that are long dead


Dripping candle wax that use to shine 

A clock in mourning thinking of the times 

A cobweb net in the corner 

trying to hold on to the wall 

The room that was quite small 


A window open-so light seeps through–

Through the cracks and past the broken shoes 

Rushes against a current 

The cycle of the rain, the thunder, then the lightning

Rain— thunder—  lightning

Past the chain- breaking and yet making 

Fates ironic game 

The little room is swept clean 

Now crystal-like in its gleam 


The little room’s door has a crack underneath 

So thin not even a sheet 

Can slip through

The brass door knob is cool 

A simple turn and one small step 


The room has been neatly swept 

Glowing yellow lamps 

Shiny shelves and colorful books

red, blue, green…

The cobwebs out of the dusty nooks 

floorboard nails all fixed 

An inviting smell of warmth 

A gilded vase mended with gold 


It’s fresh and new 

Yet still the same, it was always there

Just not in my way 

Who could take such a place?

And make it into this? 

Look what the light did 


Olivia Lipson ‘25, Creative Writing Editor