Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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SOCCER NEWSWRITERS STAR CLUB ? V v ill? 3!il ■ ■ TENNIS

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FOG The fog creeps in, a ghost-like hand, Silently, Stealthily. Reaching out, groping mysteriously, Unfelt, Unheard. A misty, spectre-like ghost of the waters, Gray Damp. Gloomily it surrounds shore and town, Disguising the world. Furtively it floats on wings of air, Dismal, Dank. Enfolding all, changing all. Oblivion. The world grows lighter, Lighter still. The fog creeps back from whence it came, Reverting to nothingness. Vanishing Quietly, Like a ghost that is no more. Suddenly the sun bursts upon the world, Glorious, Radiant, Warming. The moist earth breathes in the sunlight, Growing giddy with riotous flowers, Exhilarating, life-giving. Eternity. Edna Groop, • ENCLOSURE The soundless depth of heaven’s blue Is softly hung with net of stars That trembles as the winds pour through, I feel that tremble in my heart. A shining pearl that is the moon Cuts through the net a silver path And ever spins on fair}' loom The misty halo of her light. The loom, the pearl, the net are mine; They are a whole though each apart; Yet ever present is that blue That I can’t hold within my heart. Theresa Zezzos, ’39 TO LIFE I’ve read so many poems Of death: so many That have praised its rest, its quiet, After eyes are closed After the heartbeat ceases:— But, I’ve not a poet’s vision Of my fate. I hate to see the world slip from me. I want to awake; To see dawn again After the darkness of night. I want to feel the sting of hate, And the soothing hand of love. I want to work, to play, to live. Domenica DePolo, ’40 Eleven

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CROSS-COUNTRY GOLDEN ROD DEBATING CLUB BASKETBALL