Evander Childs High School - Oriole Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

Page 16 text:

S N O W AT N I G H T The snow fell fasl and slraighl, like rain. ll fell wilh quiel inlensily, nol even swirling aboul lhe dim glow of slreel lamps, drawing a while shifling haze over lhe dislance, be- fore lhe dark-green massed spires of lhe pines. I held oul a hand and walched a flake sellleq walched lhe exquisilely chiseled whileness mell, crumble lo a soggy grey, lhen go. Bul I was loo rapl lo lhink of a philosophy, or even remark on lhe varied hexagonalily of snow, and so I lrudged on, lhe 'snow crunching and squeaking under my feel. STATUE OF EL CID El Cid rides in lhe rain, Sullen-gleaming lhe bronze. Pennon caughl in a frozen fluller from lhe wide-bladed spear head, EI Cid rides in lhe rain. I Frozen in lhe cold and while misl of lhe norlhlandg ' And in Spain lhe founlains spill quielly, lhe sun is warm on Granada . . . Bul El Cid rides alone, His head bare lo lhe rain . . . LAST RIDE Each Iighl was a sofl blur Slrung on lhe long black lane Of down-shooling highway. A slring of pearls lo elernily . . . B A R G A l N Used bayonel, 52.50 Good for decoralion Or souvenir. Slighlly denled lBy lhe ribs il was lhrusl ini A bil rusled lBy wel rolling fleshl A bargain al lhe price! L O O K I N G B A C K When our downs have changed lo lwilighl And we are shadows in lhe sinking sun, We shall peruse lhese pages ' And re-live each memory Wilh lhe sharp bile of a fresh wound.

Page 15 text:

Above, fhe sfeel decks melfed fhe rubber soles of fhe passenger's shoes: Drove fhem under fhe lazy whirling fans in fhe salon, Where rounded ice cubes finkled againsf frosf-silvered glass. lsn'f if ho+? fhey gasped. And drank. T And in fhe Glory Hole if was fhirfy degrees higher, wafer warm and flaf. He flung, shoulder muscles bunching in hardened knofs, Swiffly smoofhing as he flung wifh pracfised ease, fhe lumps arching ouf To spread evenly over fhe whife-hof glow and flicker away in gas. . . Tiny blue flames burned quiefly, licking fhe black coals fo ash . . . He clanged fhe door shui' and braced himself on his shovel, Legs ouf spread, fhe sweat running in fhe furrows of his face. Suddenly fhe ship lurched, once. Michael was fhrown off balance And sfumbled, arm oul' fhrusl' fo shield his body. For a second he did noi' feel if, fhen wave Upon wave of pain seared fhru his forearm. He sfood erecf and sfared af 'lhe red blofch. On fhe bridge 'lhe second mafe said, Derelicf, sir. No damage, sir. The capfain ordered fhe course held for fhe Red Sea, and wenl' fo luncheon The arm swelled. He lef fhe shovel clang .fo fhe floor, An fhen cursedhsfeadily. Then he furned, climbing up fhe ladder, And wenf fo sick bay. They kepf him fhere, v Moaning, as 'lhe sfeamer glided fhru 'lhe molfen glass of fhe Red Sea, The infense defermined blue of fhe Mediferranean. The docfor lel' him up al' Queensfown, and when she up anchored, He wenf fo fhe rail and sfood fhere-for hours, Till Ireland was dim in fhe disfance, - Her green hills misfing away like dream, - Melfing info fhe horizon. He sfood fhere for hours Till nighf came and fhe sea was shrouded in misf. He breafhed deep, hard,-fill he felf his lungs swelling, His chesf filled and sfraining. He fell' so clean inside, So cool . . . His was 'lheisea nighf, The cool reward of rain-washed air . . . Then he knew God was fhe rain, The misf fhaf pressed abouf 'lhe ship, And fhaf would never lef if go.

Page 17 text:

I M A G E S Above my desk There is a Buddha, Gilded Wifh dull gold painl. The dim reflecfed green Iigh'r Gives ii life, And il' sneeringly says, Why sfruggle? You'll sink in fime- Why sl'ruggle? The sun's scalpels Will reveal A cracked plasfer image. B A U B L E S Your words Remind me ioday M go Q QET3 Q TH Of Chrislmas +ree ornamenfs: Thin, highly colored, Empfy-. REE DESTROYERS IN THE RAIN Slim grey desfroyers in 'lhe driving rain Heaving genily on fhe long low swells: Low grey hulls blending wilh +he sky above: Becoming one wilh lhe quief wafers below- A parl' of ihe sea ilself. And all is grey- The sea, fhe sky, fhe wafer-hugging panihers. GRADUATION AT THE PARADISE In robes of renled digni'l'y We'll sfalk across 'Ihe gilded s+age Where beH'er dramas have been played: And fhere will be swealy-handed clapping- And fhe manager will sil And look al' his walch Wondering if we'll be oul' on fime So his own performance can slarf- Here, where 'Ihe noise of my +ee'l'h Crunching 'Ihru crisp bread ls lhe only foreign sound: Here where brown leaf picfures Are framed in fallen lrees And branches are lracings on a sapphire sky, Holy words wriHen on a iewel: Here, where smokeless heal is quivering Floa'I'ing up lhrough fhe ear+h-smelling air: Here can I press my face lo fhe earih And Iel' iis lhoughfs be mine And i'l's peace mine also. PASTORAL