A River’s Pride by Alexey Skachkov, Year 10 So, you say you won the pride eh, oh little River Nilus? Little stream of deserts far, little river of Egyptus? The streams you gather on little hills, The brooks you gather from desert springs, Enough to feed one dying kingdom, And you, little child, challenge me? I, the gatherer of a thousand brooklets from near and far, I, the father of children who feed entire empires, I, the beating heart of Europa’s land, I, the father of Thames and Caen and Rhine and Elba. I, the greatest river of them all!
What rivers have you fathered, oh little one? What unfelled empires have you nurtured? What great deeds were done in your small stream? So tell yourself you won, oh little one: slink back to your small country, For, to all sane folk it is clear that I have won. Is that not right? Though I do wonder: does anyone know my name?
Atlantic Salmon Joseph Robson, Year 12 after this all, I at least hope the salmon will carve their way
up the slip-road gorges and mudslide cul-de-sacs past the birds perched on young quaking aspens like they used to balance on our phone lines and through the long-bent storm-drain covers until they find the natal streams they hatched in to bury new life in the gravel we made
CREATIVE WRITING
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THE ALLEYNIAN 713
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