The path is worn.
A scar scorched through the forest by an untold number of travelers.
The sky is gray.
What leaves remain on the trees are at rest.
Looking down, a pair of legs are moving forward but no steps are heard.
How long have they been walking?
Looking up, the path, with long snow kissed grass skirting the sides stretches on without end.
To the left an unseen cliff, to the right a spacious field filled with unremarkable flora.
The pace quickens to combat an incessant chill.
How much longer to go?
His legs ache. A glance backwards reveals nothing as the path melts away into black. The further he walks the more darkness gathers behind.
With eyes now forward on the perennial view, he feels a weakening resolve and for the first time, a shortening stride.
Ahead, a soft bend is revealed.
A new breeze arouses the leaves while the mute footsteps become perceptible.
Rounding the bend.
The once impenetrable clouds disperse to reveal a warming sun, a distinct tune from a bird and a flower in bloom.
Entranced by the surprising change he carelessly slows to a saunter while the bend hardens in front of him.
Warm turns to hot turns to blazing.
The song turns to noise turns to a cry.
The grass thickens and encroaches on the path with sharpened blades.
As he shields his eyes from the light he kicks towards the intruding growth and launches into a blind run.
The color flushes away and the noise fades to a hum, to a dead calm.
Defeated, he opens his eyes and fixes them back on the straightened path.
Source: Myles Calvert, 2023. Written in May, 2021.
The location of “the path” is heavily influenced by a hiking trail at Decew Falls / Morningstar Mill. As you walk along away from the waterfall there is a cliff on your left and at times an open field to your right.
Those who have walked it before may know it well and recognize the descriptions (although the waterfall is not mentioned in The Path).
I am from a bad neighborhood with just me and my mom From learning to go right rather than wrong I am from learning to trust even if their skin is white From learning to fight with words for my rights
I am from playing video games with my best friend Manny From debating with SJ and going to Blake’s terrible parties I am from being on and off with Melo And from me and Jared sharing only a small “hello”
I am from almost always listening to my Mama And from getting caught up with Jared and Blake’s drama. From trying to make it to the top, even when Trey always feels the need to tell me, “Mr. Smarty Pants”, to stop
I am from always knowing I can go up to Doc And from realizing showing compassion is just one drop From realizing no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to let those cold metal handcuffs fly I am from learning Castillo’s dead, but it never mattered From the cold metal cuffs still being felt by me in the shower
I am from understanding, there will always be jerks And from learning it doesn’t matter and not to assume the worst From late-night conversations with SJ when there’s no need to pretend And from making mistakes I can learn from in the end
I am from asking Martin for some guidance And from not letting my voice rest in the silence I am from learning to say my words and fight with peace From understanding my life isn’t missing a puzzle piece
I am from figuring out, they aren’t trying to be insensitive; based on where they came from, it just comes out. I am from learning to forgive just like Martin would From making it clear that, “it’s aight we good” I am from believing no one should be alone From everyone should have somewhere to call home
I am from finding out that compassion will win again and again, opinions aside I am from learning, just like Martin said, we should all be kind and look for what’s on the inside I am from trying always to look at people and understand From trying to answer the big question, “are all men really created equal in the end?”
My name is Hardi Patel and I am the author of the “I Am From – Justyce’s Perspective” poem.
This poem is based on Nic Stone’s Dear Martin novel. I am a first-generation Canadian from India. I am currently a student at AN Myer Secondary School in Niagara Falls, Ontario. I am heading into Grade 11 this September; however, this poem was written by me when I was in Grade 9.
This poem began as a portion of my culminating assignment given to me by my Grade 9 teacher, Tina Chivers. My English class studied many writing pieces throughout the semester. Our novel was Dear Martin by Nic Stone. Throughout the semester, we studied the question, “Are all men created equal?”
For my course culminating assignment, I was given many media options and had to choose one to represent my understanding of Dear Martin. I chose the poem option. However, I was faced with a barrier: I didn’t know how to write another poem other than the “I Am From” poem. So, after looking at different poetry forms, I decided to write an “I Am From” poem. However, I wrote it from the perspective of the main character in the book, Justyce McAllister. The “I Am From” poem was something my Grade 9 class did at the beginning of the semester (https://iamfromproject.com/?s=tina+chivers). When I asked Mrs. Chivers what she thought of my idea, she said, “Amazing” and continued with, “That’s an awesome idea! I’m excited to see it!”
Dear Martin was impactful to my class, largely because the main characters in the book were the same age as we were. We could visualize ourselves in their shoes but felt thankful for a safe and accepting community. I found it easy to see these characters as your friends. Ms. Stone’s writing made it easy for me to understand Justyce’s intentions. I also understood how he felt about everything that was transpiring in his life. Although this is a fictional story, all details are relevant to modern life.
Through my poem, I attempted to convey Justyce’s thirst to be an excellent person even with all of the challenges he faced. I attempted to write about how Justyce didn’t change because of the negatives, but rather, he kept trying because of the positives. I wanted my poem to be a summary of the novel, and reinforce the main ideas of the book for Dear Martin’s readers.
This poem was never meant to reach a large audience.
I sent my poem to Ms. Stone, and she showed me lots of love. Mrs. Chivers encouraged me to send it to the “I Am From” project; I got a lot of appreciation from them as well. I’m thankful for these people. Julie Landsman, one of the women who run the I Am From Project reached out to me about adding my poem to the 2022 Fall issue of the African American Registry which is an initiative that she is also a part of. This offer elated me! Additionally, Mrs. Chivers contacted a local library (The Niagara Falls Public Library) and helped put my poem in their local writer’s section! After that, Paul Forsythe published an article in the Niagara This Week newspaper about my poetry. He interviewed Mrs. Chivers and me about how it came to be. As well, the mayor of Niagara Falls, Mayor Jim Diodati, sent me a handwritten note congratulating me on my achievements!
This has certainly been a memorable experience for me. This simple poem with a message I wrote has had an extraordinary impact on my life. I am extremely grateful for the support I have received from so many individuals. When I sent it to Ms. Stone and Ms. Landsman, I simply took a chance, and I received a great deal of support from them. This is an example of how positive results can be achieved if you try or take something a step further.
Fine sprays, colored rainbows,
Rushing waters, winter snows.
Majestically she roars her might,
Niagara, a truly beautiful sight!
Hark! Let us lend an ear
To rumbling sounds that are so near
Recognize her music with pride,
To Niagara! a drink we’ll imbibe!
Breathlessly we watch on a cold winter’s night
When NIagara waters are frozen tight
Ice bridges are formed on waters now ice,
Figurines are molded, does that not suffice?
The stage is set and sounds are slight,
Niagara is silenced by winter’s might.
A command performance soon we’ll see,
As Niagara prepares to break herself free!
With a mighty roar, she blasts her authority
Her fury is unleashed, she’s in her glory
Ice bridges are broken and skirting away
Niagara beautiful has had her say!
The rumbling sounds are heard once more
As Niagara boasts her strength galore!
All is beautiful-so serene
Beautiful Niagara, really supreme!
Source: Samuel R. Cristelli (Dec 5,1921 – Jul 18,1997). The date this poem was written is unknown. Cristelli, a WWII veteran, worked as an electrician and he wrote this poem for the electrical shop newsletter. When he retired he worked as a supervisor with The Regional Municipality of Niagara at the Pollution Control Plant. The poem was provided by the author’s daughter, Shelley.
from the Circle K
A mirage among
the sleeping suburb.
The back wall
on a green screen.
Back out to
the parking lot
Source: The author, 2023
Convenient Corner was first published in Echolocation, vol. 20, March 2023. Convenient Corner was inspired by the Circle K on Thorold Stone Road, Niagara Falls, Ontario.
Cole McInerney is a poet from Niagara Falls, Ontario. He studied English at Toronto Metropolitan University. Currently, he is a MFA student at the University of South Carolina, studying poetry. His poems have been published in several print and online publications, including Feral Poetry, White Wall Review, The Bookends Review, and Echolocation Magazine.