By Lilianna Smith

To this day, even when I don’t utter a word to him, he supports my dreams. I don’t think I even realize the depth of my own selfishness. Am I a monster?

By Kaylie R. Klotz

By Megan WIlcox

Beyond the white stallions, where the water is a sapphire blue, I see a flash in the corner of my eye.

By Daniel Horan

By Alaina Triantafilledes

Perspective of voices that are commonly overlooked.

By Marissa Solomon

My Oma lives in New Hampshire sunsets.

Poem by Nicholas Sawyer

By Julia Catalano

In three years, when we’re at Syracuse and forced to say goodbye again, the concerts will be canceled. But we don’t know this yet.

By Kate Brennan

In six hours, this same sun will wash over balconies and iron tables for coffee cups, ashtrays, and croissant flakes to bake in its warmth.