Orme School - Hoofprints Yearbook (Mayer, AZ)

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Jim Ciletti, Poetry Workshop NOVEMBER BURIAL The autumn leaves and moody sky Blow on above in November's grip. The biting sleet and clawing wind Howl as the noon-sun dies; The huddled faces Weep and dream With foaming mouths And tossled hair. The eternal home of knotted oak Sinks groaningly into earth's cold womb. The tears and sleet soak the hammered wood. The huddled faces disappear into the Muddled, muddied, weeping ground. Grief and dirt now shovelled on. The house lies silently black. A heart that beat, yet burst. Grows cold and hard and grey. The snow streams on and cloaks the Hill. And the mudcaked feet tramp on; And the huddled faces stare. GIB PARRISH the kite, flutters dovishly across the etched sky remnants of the deluge the captain, skillfully plays the arching line, lightening slithers down her spine below her, floating debri cans, bottles, cigarette butts icons of the civilized a snap, nobody grieves the dissenting kite floundering arms, groping enveloped, then sealed lips of the undertow, only a flutter and a gasp BILL DEAN Walking through a skyless city, Winds mourned past windows and alleys Trying to retrieve yesterday. Groping for tomorrow, While forgetting the moment. Speaking of neither defeat nor triumph. But defeat of triumph. Crying or laughing I only know, when I looked up expecting to see those sky-concealers. People following the winds lament or maybe the long-lost sky. I saw only Those— People and MARY MUSHAM - 13 -

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Teachers, as well as students, explored the many different medias of art demonstrated

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Salvation Army Bread Line. 14 -