Writing From the Road: Roseau, Minnesota

Poems by Marilyn Alexiuk, Grace Jordet,Damien Larson, Davis Butler, Ashley Watts,  Emma Waling, and Zachery Wensloff.

Black Birds
by Marilyn Alexiuk


It’s a dark bird

Scattering from tree to tree

Leaving behind smoky feathers,

A mark of its presence.


Always singing,

But leaving and screaming

When anyone

Gets too close.


It’s content to be alone.


It can always be heard,

Morning, noon, and night.

Constantly nagging at your mind.


It’s everywhere,

Hopping in the street,

Sitting the tree,

Flying in the sky.

Ever-present depression.



By: Grace Jordet


Joy is like water


You can have both

And feel refreshed


Or you can lack on you’re

Intake and feel dehydrated


Some people have a

Plentiful amount


Some people’s bucket

Is bone dry


Some people’s joy is

Pure and clean


Other’s is dirty

And contaminated.



By: Grace Jordet


It is like this

Not quite the ocean

But the waves made

Me feel like it could be

Standing on the

Beach the cold

Water lapping at my legs

I thought to myself how

One day I would like

To call this home.


A rock and Friendship
By: Damien Larson

There they sit, unmoving

Undeniably safe to look at

They can be really big or really small

Then after many years the break

They aren’t easy to put back together.


Atlas the company
By: Damien Larson






Curses you to your death.

The Storm
By: Davis Butler


The Morning.

It was beautiful.

The sun was shining through the leaves on the trees.

There was a slight breeze.

It was beautiful.

But then,

An hour later,

The storm hit.

It was loud.

It was terrifying.

The breeze quickly began to speed up.

Trees were falling.

Small rivers began to form in the yard.

A few hours past and the storm only got worse.

The storm.


By: Davis Butler


It’s hot.

Very hot.


The river is cluttered with people.

The river is filled with pure water from the mountain.

It is like this.


By Ashley Watts

The shirt hanging in the closet

That wants to go out but almost never does.

“I want to see the world.”

It thinks.

It wants to be worn

To the beach

To concerts

To school

To the movies

On a date

To feel the wind

To soak up the sun

To be complimented on its colors

To be appreciated.

It does not want to sit in a dusty closet on the same hanger

It does not want to get its hopes up


“Maybe today will be my turn.”

And being let down when another shirt is chosen.

It wants to be let out

“I want to see the world.”


by Emma Waling


Chill out on the couch

Maybe shut your eyes

Don’t think,

Don’t move,

Don’t create strain,

Just rest and do nothing.


It’s peacful where you are.


Jealousy Like a Christmas Tree
by Emma Waling


We take out a christmas tree occasionally

We decorate the branches with memories

We walk around, careful not to touch

We clean the mess

We leave it up longer than indended


By: Zachery Wensloff



Out in the

Open to



Life of a snowmobile
by Zach Wensloff

As it sits away over the summer in a shed doing nothing but waiting. It knows that it must wait or it could hurt itself. But when the first snowfall comes it rider follows. When the rider pulls the rope waking the little beast under the hood and as they travel away from that horrible trap of a shed it releases the anger it built up over the summer.

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