“The Season of Childhood”
Beautiful orbs reflect vibrant rainbows
break only to reveal
lost summer night whispers
and the fading light of dusk.
The air is cool, dry, and dancing
The trees join in the slow waltz
To the music of rustling branches
And the drifting of the clouds.
I can see the sunset through the spheres,
A window to my memories.
I can hear the laughter and shouts
Of my friends and I in my old backyard.
Sun-kissed smiles and melted otter pops
The thudding of sandals on pavement
Grass stains and bubblegum pink nails
All the joys of that season of my life
I still watch the bubbles float by out my window
Taken by the wind, far away.
When my eyes close, I can feel it all,
The summer nights, the warm air, the toothy grins
Of childhood all over again.
Poetry by Dani O’Keefe
Image by Jo Agard
HHS junior Dmitriy Ivanchuk took photos inspired by the poem Perspectives, by Bassel Almasalmeh. He then mixed the photos and the spoken-aloud poem and what’s created is a meditation on city life.
Small particles of near-frozen water,
Stark white against espresso brown,
Drifting down upon the abandoned forest.
Trees stretch high,
A haven for small animals
Who have survived the growing solitude.
Rock Springs, Wyoming, 2006
We in our trailer, one mile out of town.
Two bedrooms with holes in walls.
Memories in the carpet
Old family pictures on the wall.
Mom had that look in her eyes again
Like an absence of reality.
She sent me away for another cab ride around town,
She told me for only an hour or so
But this was the fifth ride this month.
She promised me anything I wanted,
Ice cream or a new toy.
But I knew better,
She only makes promises when she sends me away
For the wrong reasons.
We grow to learn from our parents’ rights,
They teach us whether or not it’s wrong
To be passionate about the things you love, our presentation of
A child is born into this world knowing nothing.
It is what we teach that child that will create its perspective on this world.
What will create their piece of mind? Read more
soft stiff grass
A lonely note
through the night
Canon in D.
produce every note,
voices in wind.
a sudden crescendo: Read more