Arts and Humanities Commons^™

Escape, Clara Yu

The Peregrine Review

the rain bleeds together

in musical tandem;

the puddles form.

deep and dark, they lay

by the side of the road.

The Red Dirt Of M1, Micaiah Saldaña

The Peregrine Review

The nice words for a place like M1 are “juvenile detention center” or “remand home.” Those are its labels in Uganda. They are labels that sweep what M1 really is under a rug and present it nicely to anyone who might question its very existence. In truth, M1 ought to be called what it is: a prison for children. M1 is one of the places where children as young as two years old are dropped off by Ugandan police after routine “round-ups” and arrests for crimes that are more often than not petty. They are then left there until the …

Shadow House, Amelia Markey

The Peregrine Review

A photo of a piece of art with the words:

"The swing of the pendulum

unequalled euphoria

unpromising disappointment,

a sense of failure.

a certain lack of determination.

I improve hourly!

I weep!

I sleep."

Ode To The Girl With No Name, Will Labossiere

The Peregrine Review

i don’t know You. nor You me.

and yet i’m compelled nonetheless

Your aura is mesmerizing

Your aura is mesmerizing

i'm drawn in with every second You pass me by,

holding my breath and wishing You would stop.

In Praise Of Silence, Jacqueline Blasko

The Peregrine Review

I must confess that I despise snow. Snow makes me long for summer like nothing else. I cannot stand the hideous look of dirty, black, grimy snow piled in banks in parking lots. I hate clearing the stuff off my car.

In The Darkroom, Dakota Vaughn

The Peregrine Review

1

In the darkroom there’s this second world.

It’s yellow and there’s mostly girls

With a couple artsy, soft-type boys.

When there’s a lot of us we make lots of noise.

When it’s only me, I’m mostly silent.

If I’m lucky, sometimes

I’ll hear a violin

Floating in from some practice room.

Acceptance, Clara Yu

The Peregrine Review

the sky sees

its reflection in a puddle.

does the sky love itself?

do I?

Paint Me Again, Will Labossiere

The Peregrine Review

paint me again, o’ wise oak,

and let your umbrage shed its

leafy cloak upon me

with prismic spectral wash in billows deep and soft

Crossing, Nicko Mcmillen

The Peregrine Review

A photo showing an hunched, old man holding a bag and crossing the street (pictured in black and white.)