The Backyard Garden Sasha Fagelman, '24 A pale pink dress beneath the bent trees, A shimmering light catches her eyes in the breeze. She turns the book’s pages, its words heavy and thick, The heat of the air compels my fingers to slick. Strands of grass press into my ankles, leaving red marks, My backrest itches the nape of my neck with its bark. A beetle wanders onto her tulle- or chiffon? A leaf flits through the quiet air of my lawn.