I Know

By Niels Van ‘t Hul

“I know”,

is all she said when she saw

the sorrow in my eyes.

 

“It’s ok”,

was what she said

when she held me close.

 

“I’m here”,

she whispered in my ear

with her hand in my hair.

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Hidden Treasures

By Anya Pylypchuk

The world is filled with hidden treasures; some go unnoticed by passersby on the street every day. On a late August evening I was exiting Roodebeek metro station in Brussels, about to follow a long, dismally dark-grey tunnel that led outside. Often, during weekdays, its dreariness was diluted by an old man who played Mozart and Bach on his well-worn violin. While ascending the steps, I would immediately recognize his music even before seeing him – it was always so pure, subtle and full of feeling. In these moments, I’d hurriedly dip my hand into my backpack and try to fish from its bottom any spare coins I could give to the old man. He would never let me leave empty-handed either, favoring me with a pile of fruit candy and a smile. Once we had exchanged gifts he would continue his expert playing, which could be as joyful as cracking laughter, or powerful as a sonorous thunderstorm.

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Nighttime Slumber

By Alexandria Somirs

Yawning into nighttime slumber,

Daytime creatures fall away

From nightly visions of misty wonders.

These daylight eyes close and dream

Of lands beyond their dusty realms,

While twilight fairies push and pull

A mask of gold and black

On Triton’s sea kissed lines.

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