Abigaile Lin
Within every town, there is a street, and behind it,
there is a story,
    a hidden book in the library,
    waiting to be discovered like an age-old mystery.
        open the door and step out
            to find
            a small street at play
            in the baseball diamond,
            on the field,
            at the playground where kingdoms are risen,
                    where swings become rockets and
                    we, weightless, soar to infinity and don’t look down.
                              the sun sparkles,
                             radiant and glorious,
                    the clouds float on dreams in the sea-blue sky.
                    the world becomes your oyster–big, boundless,
                beckoning you out further and further, higher and higher…
                move on
                to the main street, busy and beating,
                asphalt dividing a forest in full bloom.
            summer heat paints a mirage of silence, between the
            the rumble of cars,
        the soft murmur of a stream,
        chirping of cicadas,
    distant calls of woodland birds.
thrill-seekers take to the road on their skateboards and bikes,
living in the wind and the rush and the now,
    and peace-seekers stroll on the sidewalk,
    soulful and steady.
    arrive at the loop, just down the road.
        the wind blows cold, brushing through
        the man and his dogs who traverse hill to hill,
            and rattles the sentinel trees.
            it hails in a shower of leaves, and plays the rusty chimes of the
        community garden, the makeshift island above a sea of rolling fields,
        made with brittle mesh, tumbledown benches alongside a gazebo,
    where forlorn wheelbarrows lie topsy-turvy in the mulch, and
    weathered wood painted with faded flora.
pumpkin vines and squash tendrils reach to the sunset,
    pining to be free.
    in the distance, the train cries out against the deepening sky,
        long, hoarse, and yearning.
        each street paves forth a destiny.
            each journey offers an adventure:
            but when the wind blows to a sigh,
            the sun tucks in its bed beneath the stars,
        the most familiar path
    is the one that brings you home.

Abigale Lin is a thirteen-year-old who has just begun her eighth-grade year at Moorestown Friends School. She currently lives in Haddonfield, New Jersey. Abigale loves to explore visual arts, such as filmmaking, digital art, sequential art, and the realms of classical realism. She excitedly immerses herself in all kinds of writing as well,
spanning from short stories to podcast scripts to screenplays and now poetry. Recently, she has started an Instagram (@studioorangeendolith). When she is not creating, Abigale swims competitively and experiments with new recipes. “Meandering” is her first published piece.

"playground" by SmartSignBrooklyn is licensed under CC BY 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit

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A magazine for teen writers—by teen writers. Under the Madness brings together student editors from across New Hampshire under the mentorship of the state poet laureate to focus on the experiences of teens from around the world. Whether you live in Berlin, NH, or Berlin, Germany—whether you wake up every day in Africa, Asia, Australia, Europe, North or South America—we’re interested in reading you!