Hilltop, we clung
with red-cold fingers, burnished
cheeks and foreheads, scarves
and orange peels swinging
from our pockets. Here,
where there are a thousand
kinds of quiet: leaky morning, re-
heated soup, tomato or chicken
or onion. Carpeted steps,
the softened flesh of table
butter or parceled afternoons,
reading knee to knee
on the sofa, green,
this one about the
english countryside. this one
about the sun sliding down as if
thrown against the wall.
Maya Renaud-Levine is a senior at Beacon High School, born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. She has a passion for podcasts, politics, singing, and playing the piano, and will never turn down a good crime novel. Her poetry is published or forthcoming in The WEIGHT Journal, Idle Ink, Eunoia Review, Blue Marble Review, Girls Right the World, Recenter Press, and Truant Lit, and she is a national winner of the American High School Poets’ JUST POETRY!!! the National Poetry Quarterly.
Eunoia Review 