YWP Content Published in Newspapers

Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.


Mar 26
Hausmane's picture

A Blind Man’s Tale

As I run my hand along the rough stone the wind whispers and the trees creek with suspense. I feel the cold air on my face as I search every crevice, every imperfection in the rock and suddenly feel a gap large enough for my finger to fit in.  A loud scraping sound follows and something cold wets my hand...ink. I hear the crisp snap of rolled up paper and bend over to find it on the gravel rode, holding my cane close. I hear hurried foot steps about two feet away to the right and he wind suddenly picks up. The piece of parchment quietly floats away as I make one final attempt to grasp at the knowledge drifting away. I lose balance and fall hard on the rough gravel.
Mar 26
How's picture

I can only see so far with my eyes.

I can only see so far with my eyes.
I can’t see the bottom of this tree,
I can’t even see the barn house either,
Nor the stars in the sky.
I can only see the rushing rivers,
With the fish, frogs, and bugs.
Swishing, singing, and buzzing,
Maybe I can’t see everything,
But I can hear so many sounds with my ears.
Mar 26
crainich's picture


I am the one who wants to know everything…

Does the universe end, or does it go on forever
Does it stop at one point, possibly, however…
Where! When! There’s always more space
On the other side of everything! A whole different place!

Does life really end, is that all, are you done 
Or do you start a new life, out in the sun.
Do you go to Valhalla, Heaven or Hell
Do you lie there unconscious, in your long skinny cell?

Will time go on forever?
Will it ever end? 

Is anything impossible?
Or just to hard to comprehend?

Is magic real?

Will we ever go to mars?

Will we live on another planet?

Will we go all the way to the stars?

I am the one who…
Has all the questions
But none of the answers

Mar 26
Maevef's picture

Treetop Thoughts

Sitting up here, I can see the world.
Everything is below me, stretching out for miles
As the sun is sets, everything is bathed in golden light.
As the night wears on, the gold and pink turn to blue and black.
I love the way everything is silhouetted against the sky.
I used to do this all the time.
I sat at the tops of trees for hours at a time
just looking, and looking, and thinking.
When I saw my world
from a different point of view
it changed everything.
I always had new ideas, realizations, sitting up here. 
Sometimes I would bring a book, sometimes I wouldn't.
It didn't really matter.
But as I got older, I didn't sit in trees much.
I forgot why I needed a different view of my world.
I became engrossed in small stuff, never focusing on the big picture.
Always thinking about the future, always looking ahead, never looking back.
Looking back was hard.
Mar 25
Cunningr's picture

Our Home

I watch the sun as it sets,
Lighting up the sky.
I watch the crimson canvas,
Golden streaks flying by.
I watch the colors blend together,
Not understanding why.
“And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”

I hear the birds as they soar,
Spring air on their wings.
I hear their babies call softly,
Such sweet songs they sing.
I hear the whole flock head home,
One last note gently rings.
“And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”

I taste the night in the air,
It fills up my lungs.
I taste the temperature change,
So cool on my tongue.
I taste the wind on my lips,
The evening still young.
“And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”

I smell the breeze off the lake,
Faintly then it goes.
I smell little buds on the trees.
Sweeping past my nose.
I smell spring around the corner,
As sweet as a rose.
Mar 25
Simone's picture

The Note

It was a cool April night. It’s was dark and the street I was walking on was completely deserted, which made me a little spooked. As I was walking past a large brick building, I noticed a loose brick up ahead a few feet. It was protruding from the side of the building so I gave a tug for fun. It came right out, and to my surprise a small, crumpled, blank piece of paper floated to the ground. At least I thought it was blank, until I picked it up and found two words scrawled that made my heart jump. It read Hello Tim. A spun around, looking for anyone who could have put the note there, and saw not a single person. I was just about to rewrite it off as a bizarre coincidence, when I heard a quiet, raspy voice from alley next to the building say, “Aren’t you going to say hi?” And as I stood there, paralyzed with fear, my mind screaming at me to run but my feet refusing, the figure made himself visible.
Mar 23

My Heart The Acorn

My heart is silent,
I tremble at this revelation.

Veins pump soundlessly,
and carry dull blood
to my arms and legs
that move me wearily
up the tree.

My anxiety has once again
gotten the best of me,
and now all I can do
is hide.
I sit uncomfortably in dead branches
that are uncushioned by leaves.   

I want to dissociate
because thinking hurts too much.

I can’t help them,
the accusations that shoot
into my brain like needles:

I think of every hello
I’ve never answered,
or the bridges I’ve burned,
because drifting apart slowly
makes me feel blurry.
But most of all,
for not being better.

Soon the sun goes down,
and the stars step out
from behind a black curtain.
They twinkle the way
a lover winks to you
from across the street.

Off a branch
not far from me,
a small acorn drops
Mar 23
Emerson.K's picture

Flight of the bird

I am feather-light
wings bright

The last leaves flutter
to the ground,
yet I stop

I’m tired
need a rest

a pause

I see where I’ve gone
where I’m going

Blue sky touches earth
earth touches tree
tree touching me

No hills
no mountains
just me

This is my journey
I make it

But beneath the tree
long overlooked
is another

pale brown
small and curious

Down in the shade
on the ground
a companion

The fur to my feathers
the soil to my tree,
earth to my sky

Eyes meet,
rest taken,

I am feather-light
wings bright
and soaring
Mar 23
neczekaj's picture

Running Free

I sit on the branch
feeling the rough bark of the old
oak tree
bite at my legs

The cool, misty air
kisses my skin
as the leaves whisper
to one another
in a language that only they

The golden fur of my retriever
glistens in the pale sunlight
as the sun
just peaks through
the tangle of forest trees up ahead
casting a warm glow and 
bathing the backyard in
velvety hues of yellows and reds

I pick at the tree bark
before swinging my feet
over the branch
letting myself down
onto the soft, damp grass

My dog pants
greeting me with a
childlike enthusiasm
her tail wagging as
her wet tongue licks my face

I grab a stick
holding it tight
her chocolate eyes wide in

“Ready?” I say
pulling my arm back
The stick catapults across the lawn 
Mar 23

Rise and Shine!

Some birds awoke me, but not in the way you'd think.
But downstairs in the kitchen! There was a ton in my sink!

But when I went down in slippers and opened the door.
There were two in my washer, and four on my floor.

Now don't think I'm crazy, while I very well could be.
There were ten of them outside, hopping in "my" tree!

I called over my friend to help get them out.
But she just called me insane and started to shout!

So with loss friend I took over my home,
I decided to chase them with a very large stone!

But this made them angry and very annoyed.
They chased me back and I tried to avoid!

There were so many bawks, pecks and feathers in here.
But that was until my cuckoo clock interfered.

The chaos then stopped and we also saw the time.
Noon rolled around, so it was time to dine.

We all made amends because of our very sore legs.