YWP Content Published in Newspapers

Young Writers Project is grateful to these newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and Valley News. Monthly: Addison Independent, Bradford Journal-Opinion, Brattleboro Reformer, Charlotte News, Essex Reporter, Milton Independent, Rutland Herald (and Reader), St. Albans Messenger, Times Argus (and Extra), Williston Observer. These papers are read by more than 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 Executive Director Susan Reid.


Sep 27
haileychase's picture

September 9, 2019, 2:37pm.

I dangle my feet off the wood dock,
my body warm from the sun.
The sun forms stars on the top of the lake,
flat and untouched by anyone.

The sun feeds the trees,
and invites the birds to sing.
The air is still, perfect, silent,
no phone around to ring.

A dragonfly passes my side,
it says hello and resumes its day.
I smile at its presence,
then watch it fly away.

The sky is bright blue sapphire,
laced with frosted white clouds.
The world is transparent and simple,
unharmed by the crowds.
Sep 26
essay 0 comments challenge: General


Sometimes poeple seem born to run, born to GO BIG.
But that doesn't mean the rest of us can't.

Sometimes, we have to walk before we can run.
And we practice.... and practice.... and practice until we're ready to take the next step. 

Sometimes it's the little things that matter.
Things we can't even begin to comprehend.

Sometimes it seems like we are unimportant.
But everything ... EVERYTHING, is important, from the biggest, most devastating hurricane to the smallest insect.

And everyone and everything has a purpose.
Sep 23
Kittykatruff's picture


Humans are full of faults
to a fault,
chasing the idea of perfection,
in itself a flaw;
When, inevitably, we do fall,
we have devised our means
to appease all,
such as test retakes
or apologies.

are part of every preschool's teachings,
a way to pay back the wounded
and, in theory, show we care. 
Words dripping off the page
like honey,
seemingly see-through
but deceptively sticky,
Clinging to clichés,
all to show they find a fault
in the fault they committed, to a fault,
faulting another.

Now, I'm not saying we should abandon morals
for human society is built on our relationships,
and kindness, love, compassion is the way
to a stronger, brighter future.

I simply think it odd
that we find fault in everything we do—
we define our morals by our faults, 
and always search ourselves
for imperfections;
Sep 22

Look into the world--

Look into the world--
And the world looks back
The sea mirrors the sky
And the sky mirrors the sea
For which is which?
Which is up and which is down
Are the creatures the sea
Or the sea the creatures
Are you a whole
Or a part?

-(HI Poetry 2019)-
Sep 19
Grace._.'s picture

I Love Me

It is hard for a teenage girl to love herself in this day and age. With all of the standards we are expected to live up too, it can be tough. In a world full of haters, sometimes one needs to take a step back and just realize how amazing they are.
Sep 18

Your mistake

You know that time of day
where the sun looks like it's ready to set
but hasn't quite reached the horizon yet
and your shadow chases you all the way home?
Do you know that moment where the sun touches the ground 
and you're left wondering how it's possible
for such a beautiful 
wild thing to give in to gravity 
and lie down under its covers without complaint?
And do you know that time in the morning 
early, early morning
when the grass is heavy with dew 
and the stars are fading fast?
Do you know that feeling of joy 
that overwhelms you 
consumes you 
eats you up and fills you with a joy you can't explain 
when the sun comes back,
spreading its light on your eager face 
and warming your entire body?
That light 
created you,
it created life.
But by shutting the sun out 
with your tall buildings,
by dumping your trash in the ocean 
Sep 16

The Unclear Definition of Me

I am the one who can only find the bad parts of things, 
the one who knows the glass is half full, and half empty, 
    and chooses the empty. 
I’m that girl that is quiet, reserved to herself, 
lost in a world inside her head. One day she will write about 
    that world, once she has explored every corner herself.

There is no place that I cannot see
without thinking of the beauty, imagining the colors
    on a piece of paper, hanging on a wall.

To me, the world is too silent, 
the wind in the trees is not enough to cover the sound 
    of buses beeping and car engines sputtering. 
And because of that, I take what the world gives me, 
and listen to the Earth’s music, while I add in my own melody, 
Sep 16

The Clearing

The misty image of a lush forest appears below me. I am not solid, just a foggy image in the darkness of a forgetful mind. Yet I can see what once was a blank canvas becomes a light clearing in a dark forest. Perhaps like me, a bright thought in a shadowy corner of the brain. I gaze down from my uplifted point of view. Noticing every leaf’s color and every blade of grass’s shape come to life. Suddenly the whirring of the brain stops, changes direction, and reaches back to the farthest corner of itself. Groping around in the dark, it’s fingers wrap around me and pull me into the light. Abruptly, I find myself slowly floating down towards the painting. I land gently on the small dirt path, that, not long before, had been carefully placed just there. I catch a brief glimpse of woods I am now standing in before I turn to face my, and the paintings, creator. The giant face, not unlike my own, stares down at me, tilts in thought, and frowns.
Sep 14
poem 0 comments challenge: Clearing
Mackenzie 101's picture

New Beginnings

I walked through the forest at dusk. I could hear the faint sound of an owl calling my name as I stumbled over fallen trees. It was dark, yet I knew of the clearing ahead of me. I kept walking, trying to avoid tree branches slowly threatening me. As I approached the clearing, I watched as golden beams of energy erupted before me. I knew I had made it soundly. I walked through the passage and decided to climb up a tree. Allowing myself to take a deep breath, I let the tree’s bark enclose its arms around me. I sat on top of the tree waiting for the sun to set. In other words, I sat on top of the tree waiting for everything to set. The clearing brought new beginnings, and I was ready to be wrapped up in all of them. 
Sep 12
rubinl's picture

The Unknown

I look behind me at the sunlight that is flooding the clearing. I want to run back, shed my bag, let my skin soak up the warmth, and just stay lying in the tall grass forever. Instead, I turn back around and face the unfriendly looking woods. They are dark, cold, and full of mysteries. I hear a rustle and a snap of a twig somewhere beyond a huge oak tree that looked over 1,000 years old. I don’t know what lies before me, but I do know what's behind me and with that knowledge a take a step into the unknown.