Milan High School grad Tucker wins writing award

Photo by Joyce Ervin
Milan High School 2015 graduate, Marley Tucker, wins First Place in Ferris State University writing contest.

By Joyce Ervin

Milan High School 2015 graduate and sophomore at Ferris State University in Big Rapids has made her hometown proud through her talent and writing skills.
Marley Tucker took First and Second place in the poetry division of the Prism annual student writing and art competition.  In her freshman year, Tucker received an honorable mention for a linguistic research essay. 
Her poems will be published in an anthology through the Department of Languages and Literature, sponsors of the competition. 
The contest is open to any attending student with recognition and cash prizes.
Besides the money that any college student can use, recipients will be honored at an awards banquet.  Unfortunately, Tucker won’t be attending.
An active student, Tucker, will be attending a conference in Washington D.C. as a representative of Ferris State.  The conference is sponsored by the Department of English, Literature and World Languages.
Participants at the conference will engage in moderator training for engaging in deliberative dialogues.  It deals with engaging the public about important civic issues and how to explore persistent social problems.
First publishing rights are to Prism.  We reprint with permission Tucker’s First Place and winning submission:
 “All Morning”
All morning pruning the decaying wisteria off the broken lattice under a dirty window with cracked glass and fingerprints hidden under the leaves, fixing the dripping faucet with rusted tools and tired hands; found a book hidden in the thick vines, carried a sick kitten out of the violet bushes, stashed away my pocket watch; quenched the flowers, watched the sunlight filter through stagnant air, felt the skin of my peaches and picked rotten apples from low branches; countless times walked round the uncut grass and tugged on imaginary creases in my plaid shirt: my bounty, when the garden fed me its lifeblood from the small berry tree in the corner plot, my guardian, mindful of my hunger, and my silent and reverent tongue; juices run down my chin and breath fogs in the dewy hours, and I hear the dog barking from next door.

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