Writing From the Road: Roseau, Minnesota

Poems by Grant Helgeland, Hunter Nelson, Oliver Lee, Tanner Otto, Catie Glodowski. Kelsey Buley, and Alexa Kihle.

By Grant Helgeland


Ball traveling through the air

A vacation for the family




All you could ever ask for

Lots of memories

Love for the game.


Love like socks
By Grant Helgeland


A pair of socks

always together

one on the left foot

one on the right

alternating steps


even if one gets a hole

or stinks worse than sweaty hockey gear in a hot car

getting washed and aired out

needing a little space to itself,

then they reunite in the dresser with the other couples

until they go on another journey.


Joy like a Pencil
by Hunter Nelson

Flows off and on the paper

In and out of our life

Comes in all sizes

Shapes or forms

Sometimes it gets used up

Leaving us with just shavings

Sometimes it can be sharp

Sometimes it can be dull

Sometimes we borrow it to a friend

In need of our help

Sometimes we don’t have enough

For even ourselves.


by Hunter Nelson

Best friend

Always there

Left hand



Love it





Fishing 1
by Oliver Lee

Floating on the water

Intensely awaiting

Setting the hook

Hooks in your fingers

Inclement weather

Never want to leave

Good thing we’re young


Fishing 2
by Oliver Lee

Floating on the water

Intensely awaiting

Setting the hook

Hooked into a big one

Insanely strong fish

Not gonna stop reeling

Grab the tape measure.


The Catch

By Tanner Otto


On a frozen lake late in the Winter

A family standing around

Laughing and having a good time


The Tip-ups scattered around

Placed in their holes

Gleaming in the afternoon light

Baited and set


The family is losing patience

When the flag pops up

They reel in their largest fish yet

The fish is measured and weighed

A photo is snapped

And the fish is released

Back down the hole


The family had fun

And will remember this day

On Lake of the Woods

In Northern U.S.A


It’s Time to Go
By Tanner Otto


It’s time to go

Just before the golden sunrise

I zip up my bulky, black jacket

and tie on my boots

The door opens like a portal

revealing the morning light

The birds chirping

The smell of morning dew on the grass

A slow paced walk to the wood’s edge

It’s time to go for a morning walk.


By Tanner Otto


Walking in the night

On top of the hill

Looking for prey

Visions of food

Eventually spotted

Stealthily kills

Dinner for the night.


Peace is like a child
By Tanner Otto


Running around without fear

Not a care in the world


Passing out hugs to strangers

Saying please and thank you


Building in the sandbox

sharing their toys


Using their imagination


They want to be police officers

and doctors

and firefighters.


Sunset to Sunrise

by Catie Glodowski


First, a bright yellow in the midst

                of a mix of vibrant blue and white.

But as time wears on, those bright colors

                get sleepy and turn to more mellow hues. 

The bright yellow to a fiery orange;

                the blue and white to soft pinks and somber grays.

The orb of light continues on its trek—

                its crawl to its nest, beyond the horizon.

Leaving behind a blanket over the sky,

                made of a sad blue, turning darker as the night takes over.

Before long, the sun’s apprentices wake up— 

                white specks in a world of black.

Soon, the sun’s nemesis— the moon— emerges from its slumber,

                casting a white light over the Earth.

He makes his own journey through the sky, 

                hoping creatures would like him instead of the sun.

Finally, the sun has had enough rest and returns,

                slowly, and with bright shades of orange and red.

She wakes up the world, 

                and makes her way through the day.

Once she starts to reach the horizon

                the cycle begins again.


If the World Could Speak

by Catie Glodowski


If the world could speak,

                what would it say?

Would it tell you a joke

                to make you laugh?

Or would it come up with something deep

                to make you think?

If the world could speak…


A tall, majestic pine tree

                standing alone among acres of brush.

A branch cracks like a footstep.

                “Who’s there!?” you shout.

“Well, what defines you?”

                The tree shoots back.


If the world could speak,

                what would it say?

Would it be down

                and say something sad?

Or would it be upbeat

                and say something happy?

If the world could speak…


A lonesome tree

                bent down in the breeze.

It’s branches twisted

                into a crossing pout.

“Leaf me alone…”

                It says with a sniffle.


If the world could speak,

                what would it say?

Would it be like a child,

                playing games all day long?

Or would it be mature,

                and rarely joke around?

If the world could speak…


A rushing river in its bed

                bubbling across the rocks.

Two fish within, racing along

                trying to beat the current.

“I’m gonna beat you!”

                “Not if I beat you first!”


If the world could speak,

                every thing would be unique.

Each and every organism

                would have it’s own personality.

If the world could speak,

                it would be a wonderful but terrifying thing.


Pride like a Puppy

By Kelsey Buley


It is fuzzy and warm

It is innocent but oft misbehaves

It licks and nips at your ankles

You’re elated when you’re around it


It whimpers when it needs affection

It makes a mess when you don’t tend to it

You want to show it off to all your friends and family

It pounces on you and wants you to play with it often

It makes you feel wanted.


By Alexa Kihle

She’s wild

Her beauty is known

Her upbeat style shines

She’s confidant

Her eyes sparkle in the darkness

Her noise can be heard

She’s sassy

Her head is held higher than the stars

Her charcoal black coat radiates her beauty

She’s elegant

Her hooves click, click, click when she trots

Her mane blows in the summer wind

She’s outgoing

Her tail swishes at my presence

Her nicker fills my ears with warmth

She’s curious

Her heart yearns for adventure

Her head bobbles as she watches me

She’s my world

And I’m her everything.

By Alexa Kihle


She looks at me and grunts.

A soft gentle push of air out of her snout.

She lumbers over to me as I watch her deep

muscles slide under her black skin.

Her ears move to the sound of my sweet tone,

the yellow and black ear-tags flapping eagerly.

She’s shy at first.

Her tail twitches when I gently stroke

her soft, warm belly.

I sit down next to her.

she pokes her hooves into my leg

As she gingerly nudges my ribcage.

There’s nothing.

No birds chirping in the treetops.

No wind howling through the leaves.

No humming from the greenhouses.

Only me and Dixie.

I watch her as the sun gradually gets

higher and higher in the sky.

I get up to leave.

And as I turn around the corner, she oinks.

Her heart longs for me

to return.

And I do.






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