White Mountains
By Yuna Lee

We drove on a mountain road.
Orange and brown leaves fluttered
in shapes, in a blanket of white mist,
and for once we heard the same music
in silence, delicate, breakable.

Currents
By Yuna Lee

Sunset at the ocean, the trees black,
water reflecting the embarrassed blush of the sky.
When she looks at me, waves rise in her eyes.

Students interested in submitting works for this column should contact Ron Price in the Liberal Arts Department at ext. 368, or by e-mail (ronprice@juilliard.edu).

Violinist Yuna Lee graduated with a bachelor's degree this past May.