The mumbles of drizzling rain come by every night to dance down on my roof slowly their feet become tired and I watch them fall to their knees slipping down the glass my fingers reach out each one following the path of a different dancer their feet touch the grass like the sole of shoes landing on rigid ground While I stay wrapped in the white warmth listening to the rhythmics of the tiny droplets of bliss
the atala is designed, curated, & edited by the Pines Charter Chapter of the National English Honor Society. It showcases original student poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, literary criticism, and art. Like its namesake — the small, bright butterfly that grew from near extinction to rising numbers in our part of the world — this little literary journal aims to grow our love of writing and expand our community’s appreciation for the literary arts. View more posts
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