List of 20 news stories.

• A June Snow

  Mr. May
  The dandelion
  snow
  amassed
  along curbs,
  before parking blocks,
  and settled
  into cloistered pockets
  of the pedicured lawn,
  where, with studied solemnity,
  the commencement tent
  mewed
  on the hill
  above the haven.
  . . .

• Cherry Blossoms

  Annabel O’Malley ’28
  The sun hits the flowers

  And they shine

  A shade of pink

  So rare it’s almost

  Undefined

  But fleeting?
  . . .

• Eyes Do Tell

  Timothy Edwards ’28
  Another knock! I shall not show surprise.
  I know that rhythmic hate behind their guise.
  Stand where you are! The chain stays on the door.
  Your presence marks the marble ‘cross my floor.
  . . .

• Fire

  Sarah Li ’30
  It melted
  It melted slowly, painfully, endlessly
  The igniter turned off with a satisfied hiss
  Then silence
  As if it were admiring its own masterpiece
  She screamed
  She grabbed frantically at the people around her
  Her friend from high school
  Her favorite teacher
  Her sister
  Her dad
  None of them spared even a look
  . . .

• Irregularity

  Ruby Meyers '26
  A pause
  breaks the silence created in degrees,
  layered up in edges and vertices: connections.
  A path may lead to a sum of none,
  so simple relations may never overcome
  gaps set throughout, predefined by glaring differences.
  However, those discrepancies come together, meeting on
  edges — subtraction becomes a foundation for insights:
  A diversity, illuminating inventiveness in everyone.
  . . .

• Sonnet

  Aileene Lee ’28
  there is no word for this great tragedy

  that clouds our life and death for at its heart

  the painting shows a harsh reality

  to us remember we will all depart

  the center only is a larger splash

  it seems the painter left it in neglect

  and others pass on by all in a flash

  so thus i wish to leave all for respect

  and yet this image makes me stop, and think

  of all the soldiers at the edges for

  i dare not move for fear that i may blink

  and cause them to continue their great war

  oh woe to those poor people who have died

  in that one great collective suicide.
  . . .

• The Color of a Downpour

  Avery Kinney ’29
  I used to dance in the rain puddles,
  with soaked sneakers,
  the rainbow polka dots on my
  umbrella bleeding
  into each other.
  back then,
  i believed that
  the world knew how
  to live in harmony.
  . . .

• Untitled (Haiku Contest Winner)

  Malini Parikh ’28
  Daystar once again hosted our annual Haiku Contest. A haiku is a 3-line poem, where the first and last lines have five syllables and the second line has seven syllables.
  . . .

• A Little Bit of Everything

  Mr. Fitz
  I used to wake up
  To the smell of coffee every morning,
  Soft notes of french vanilla
  Drifting through the door,
  Sweet and steady as your voice
  Calling me to breakfast.
  
  I never needed to drink it
  To feel the warmth it carried.
  You’d offer me a cup anyway,
  And somehow, that was enough.
  . . .

• Bedtime Thoughts

  Ruby Meyers '26
  Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.
  Don’t stay up too late, you will need your rest.
  Sweet dreams, tomorrow morning will be bright
  
  and early, you will go to start the fight.
  It’s not your job to always be the best.
  Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite
  . . .

• Mosaic of the Times

  Helena Wang '27
  The beat echoes through your chest,
  banging against your ribcage until your
  bones crackle—each rupture steady,
  like your strides into your very first birthday party,
  just before somebody
  gags on your shirt.
  . . .

• Nine Lives

  Aiden Chan '26
  If I had nine lives
  
  I’d spend the first one
  learning how to breathe again.
  To quiet the panic,
  Let the fear loosen its grip,
  Instead of pulling me under.
  Maybe after I swim to the surface,
  I’ll finally find peace and
  Won’t be afraid of the ocean.
  . . .

• Sensory Sound

  Ruby Meyers '26
  The sound of soft wind howling through a space,
  Created by the absence of the leaves,
  Leaves echoes in my ears I’ve tried to trace
  To my serene heart as it softly grieves.
  . . .

• Strange Fellows

  Sarah Li '30
  Such strange fellows they are who set their feet in this world.
  That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile,
  . . .

• Sunset Lake

  Felipe Silva '29
  As I gaze upon the lake water, Helios’ design in the sky
  hugs the setting sun, like the branches of a maple tree
  merging into a canopy of scarlet-tinted leaves and lights.
  
  As clear as truth itself, every detail of the lake
  sings Helios’ ballad, projecting each stroke of his art.
  . . .

• That Kind of Love

  Amaya Flores-Montero '29
  That soft kind of love
  In the morning when sun bathes over you both, and you understand the true meaning of the
  word “content”
  When you walk together and his hand brushes yours, three fingers whispering three simple
  words
  When it’s late in the night and he pulls you closer,
  When you two watch a movie and you feel calloused hands massaging your neck, his breath on
  your face
  When you’re in the car and his head finds its way to your shoulder, and warmth spreads through
  you.
  When you wear his clothes and his scent consumes you and you feel so safe.
  . . .

• The Child of the Regiment

  Ashley Deng '27
  The stone is cold beneath me.
  It seeps through the coat,
  too heavy for my shoulders,
  too big to be mine.
  It smells like smoke and baguette
  and someone else’s home.
  . . .

• Uncurtained

  Mr. May
  Curtainless Georgian windows
  facing East atop hill,
  over ivy company town,
  glaze shadeless students
  in blazing glare,
  . . .

• War Torn

  Ashima Bakshi '31
  The ruins of a thousand lifetimes
  Lay among the yellow buttercups in a field,
  The Roman Empire has fallen.
  . . .

• 2025 Daystar Haiku Contest Winners

  Juliette Watson '30, Vidwan Aryan '27
  Daystar once again hosted our annual Haiku Contest. A haiku is a 3-line poem, where the first and last lines have five syllables and the second line has seven syllables.
  . . .