Writing From the Road: Roseau, Minnesota

Today’s poems are from Ellie Hedlund, Sasha Magnusson, Kiana Flaig, Brady Cooper, Taylor Santl, and Chandler Mooney.

Freezer-Burned Ice Cream
By Chandler Mooney

The ice cream nobody wanted.

Sad he didn’t have the necessary qualities to be drafted.

He’s old and grandfather-looking with a frosty beard.

Giving advice to others on how to not end up like himself.


The Hat
By Taylor Santl

This hat decided it wanted

To fly away

So it did.

Then it came crashing

Into a stream of water.

It went rushing down

Sailing across the countryside

And it hitched a ride

Back to the woods

Where I found it

A week later.


By Brady Cooper

Such a bright light

But so far away

Star light is my light

It paves the way

Through the darkness

And is my nightlight

For when I sleep

I sleep in starlight.


By Kiana Flaig

Standing on first base

I see the sign

Coach touches her visor

And then her wrist

I know what it means

I can’t look back

I have to go

As the pitcher winds up

I do too

Sauntering with the just the right

Amount of bend

To take off like a missile

I shoot from the base

Wind blowing by, whipping my hair

Coach yells down

The bright yellow ball barrels towards the base

I have to slide

As I do dust flies everywhere

My toes touch the base

I know I made it

The dust settles

The ump calls me safe.

I hear cheering around me.

I get up, ready to bolt again.


By Sasha Magnusson

Walk in a dark

Damp playground

Of trees.

Bare feet on

The cool ground

Dirt and grass.




The pitter-patter

Of the bare feet crunching

Fallen leaves.

Bright green popping

Out of the shadows.

A green on brown

Playground all around.

Standing on fallen


Feeling rough, course.

Now do come orange

Yellow, blue and red

Up high above our

Small, short, tall, long



By Ellie Hedlund

The old wooden piano

Sitting against the wall

In the living room.

It was a gift from my great-grandma

To my mom. I used to play,

Started when I was six and stopped

When I was 12. I thought I was too busy

To take 30 minutes out of my week

To walk around the block to Val’s house

Where I was taught how to play.

Now, 16, I wish I never would have quit.

I miss being able to tap the keys

And play beautiful melodies.

I always loved when I had a song

With sharps and flats so I got to push

Down the black piano keys.

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