You must have scissors, little brass or plastic shears to cut the cord, soft and gummy, the flatline whine, a beckoning call. You trim the death off of the trees the same. Poised five stories up, bouncing on unsteady knees like a dancer, spinning, plodding on the edge or a walker, wavering between sand and sea foam, the far out depth which can’t be seen. You must have the will to dive and you must be able to swim. Thrown by rain without an umbrella a fruit on a tree inches past the fingertips, ripe and red, like a floating, cherry balloon popped between your teeth, stained scarlet with pride. Mostly, you must keep a light, a wailing baby, a full vase to lead the way a step at a time and let it swallow you like the whale mouth of a church with all four walls lined with wheels with divinity woven into the foot.
Emily Stanciu is a senior at Rocky River High School. She enjoys writing, playing guitar, and hiking. She plans to pursue writing as well as environmental science at The Ohio State University. She loves The Beatles, longboarding, and used bookstores.
Emily on writing and Lake Erie Ink: "I got involved with Lake Erie Ink through Driftwood, my high school's writing club. Through my experience with Lake Erie Ink, I have learned how to work with publishers. I aspire to publish a fiction book in the future as well as continuing my work with short stories and poetry."