1 poem

by maya Savin miller

Polytechnic School


summer 2009 we listened to the cicadas’ song on repeat / the soft whisper of crickets and the screech of
our screen door like a record stuck on loop / your freckled constellations like mountain ranges that lift you
to the night sky / somewhere between the waterlogged pavement and fractured tennis court the asphalt
grew wildflowers / we made home of the warm sand at night all of us like stars bowing to the moon / the
darkness so palpable i fall into it and forget to exist / here i can be invisible/ here mornings are drenched
in dew / pine needles and salt water/ i swallow and the cool air sinks to my belly, fills my pockets, and
embeds in the lining of my coat / you take my hand / our fingers blend together / and i watch as our world
settles under your lash-line


maya miller

Maya Savin Miller’s writing has been published in Bluefire, Skipping Stones and jGirls Magazine and has garnered awards from Scholastic, Rider College, the Library of Congress and The Leyla Beban Foundation. Miller is an editor at jGirls Magazine; and her story, “Trudie’s Goose,” is being adapted to film by Liran Kapel (“Nyosha”). Maya finds peace in the mountains above Gunnison, Colorado.