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- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
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- What Matters
I Am... MAG
I am the watercolors and photographs taped to the wall,
The sweater with almost-holes worn in the elbows
And the diary that never got beyond the second entry.
I am the crisp right angles of the wooden desk,
The soft curves of my handwriting on blue-lined paper,
And the thin pages of books read again.
I am the patterns the sun makes through the window,
The barely noticed shadows of noon,
And the dream that escapes when pursued.
I am the battered sketchbook laying on the floor,
The smooth wood of the instrument tucked in its black case
And the too-small shoes that are kept anyway.
I am the green apples in the blue china bowl,
The frail sprout poking through the warm earth,
And the rough trunk of the old tree watching over it.
I am the neat lines of tiles at the bottom of the pool.
The muddy purity of an almost forgotten creek,
And the white frothy waves splashing onto the shore.
I am the wire twisted around restless fingers,
The word that will not come when needed,
And the melody threaded through a faded memory.
I am the peach yogurt on a cool metal spoon,
The contented hum of the cat sleeping in my arms,
And the old postcard from a far-away place.
I am the friend of two fourth-grade ghosts,
The kite drawn in the margin of animportant paper,
And the bliss of bare feet on wet grass.
I am the bike wheel that clicks as it turns,
The smell of the air after it rains,
And the first line of a song that has been sung for years.