With the cover designed by a student
(In a contest where everyone tried),
The yearbook impressed
And, as you might have guessed,
Pumped 5th graders and parents with pride.
Filled with photos, including class pictures
From their very first year up ‘til now,
Every child’s beaming face
Showed in every place
That the layouts would neatly allow.
There were pages for each of the seniors,
With some photos and maybe a quote,
Plus their hopes and their goals
For their future-self roles
Which, one day, they’ll be shocked that they wrote.
I'm searching my school yearbook once again;
I have not done so in a while,
and see them looking back at me- as when
they were so young- each with a smile.
And here they are, as I knew everyone-
still teens, carefree- their lives ahead
not knowing if their years planned a long-run-
or sadly be cut off instead.
I scan each page of my high school yearbook,
and there I am, among them too-
and feel so grateful I'm still here to look
at us when we were fresh and new.
An online list of those no longer here-
yet smiling still upon their page,
so sadly shows near-half are gone- I fear
some young- some middle to old age.
So many passed away since way back then-
how many more- before I look again?
Flipping through the pages
Skimming the dried ink
So many questions it raises
Oh, the many things I think
Who are these young faces
And where are they, today
Though they left many traces
Green, they couldn’t stay
The smell of aged paper
Nostalgia hits my nose
20th century flavor
Ketamine and blow
They wrote of their “tomorrow”
But that was yesterday
I feel a bit of sorrow
They’ve surly passed away
I compare them to myself
And ponder my demise
Tucked away on a shelf
Live all these hopeful eyes
The Yearbook
The years have since gone by—
aged seniors now are we.
I scan each page to see
lost friends with teary eye;
then note, with relieved sigh,
some are still here with me.
Our yearbook is online—
my high school friends all there.
But posted clear to share,
a list beneath a sign
of those who crossed the line
and climbed our Heaven's stair.
Salutes to each dear friend—
here—joy and sorrow blend.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: HexSonnetta
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 09/19/2015
~6th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest 204
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 09/17/2016
Form: HexSonnetta
He wrote inside my 9th grade yearbook: "I'd like to get with you inside a kayak."
Today I would respond:
"Your kisses were so heavenly, but you abandoned me.
So it's a 'no' to me and you together in a small canoe!"
Dedicated to my first kiss, Glenn, a real son-of-a-preacher man.
I see your stuttering on paper
in criss-crosses and muffled writing.
Years have past;
your confusion still lives on these glossy pages.
Was it a confession?
You know this too well,
but a cool breeze lies at the end of this hell.
Was it something more sinister?--
it doesn't get better,
so I'll just wish you good luck.
I wish I had asked you.
All I have now is ambiguity
forever immortalized
in black and white.
Silence has taken it’s toll on me
A breeze sifts through the light fabrics of my shirt
Stalling time
In the yearbook for the blind.
Creeping upon me is the quiet of the air
Forever captured in never-ending scenery
The soft daylight reaching through to the reader’s sensitive fingertips
Miniature lush green leaves of miniature trees forever held in place.
I stand frozen in a memory
Smiling an anxious smile
Cooly hooking my thumbs with the belt loop
Paralyzed
In a yearbook for the blind.
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