Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 18 text:

SALT MARSHES For miles and miles their level floors extend, A broad expanse of glowing green and gold gl A sea of Waving grass which never tires A nature lover's eyes. He looks upon The marshes' bosom broad, more changeful than the restless sea And takes its radiant beauty to his heart. The marsh is veined with channels serpentine, Reflecting back the brilliant blue of skiesg Above these sedge-grown aisles and pools The stately heron flaps his course, or stalks Sedately in his chosen hauntsg The screaming terns float in o'er distant, glistening dunes: The bittern booms and pumps. The tide comes in- The marsh grass floats and waves where islets stood betoreg The Wand'ring creeks grow large and overflow. Take you your mountains and your sea- Glve me my vast salt marshes, green and gold. -Mark W. Pangborn, Jr

Page 17 text:

NO IMPRINT? world and tried to forsee our chances among its milling crowds. Suddenly a great monoplane nosed out of the moonlight. For a moment it poised, stamped on the circle of the moon, its broad black wings silhouetted against the clear white background of the bright orb. What a symbol of success! The strangely apparent omen thrilled me, and I stood listening to the steady drone of the plane, as it slid again into the black night as swiftly as it had come. The moon alone looked down upon me. Then suddenly it drew a wispy cloud across its face. Similarly the unknown future of the class of thirty-one was veiled and hidden from me. To An Evening Primrose The King of Light has sunk into the west, The dusk of evening hides my garden wallg There against its cool and mossy breast Grows my evening primrose, slim and tall. She has not bloomed today, ah timid flower, She Waits till Luna flings her silver sailg And now behold, by some deep unseen power Unfolds a soul of fragile beauty pale. O flower, your dress reflects the yellow moon, Your stamens long are stars that twinkle bright, Your beauty is too frail, for all too soon You droop your head, you will but last the night. When I shall rise at morn, at sun's first beam You will be gone, all faded like a dream. -Barbara Baumgartnef

Page 19 text:

NIGHT The long day draws to a closeg Stars, one by one, Appear in the darkening sky: A gray crane iiaps its wings And nies off Over the marsh. From the ocean a soft wind Whispers through the pinesg Maj estically The moon rises over the ocean A silver disk Sailing toward the dawn. Night. It is night in the south land. -Betty Meyers. 1