I placed the high school keepsake carefully
on the dining room table, letting all
the leaves release so we could sit
close and share.
the photo we wanted was as ever,
the squat face, the small eyes,
the look of evil humor, wicked
in senior class, evil when flashed
after that night he stole the car.
then today’s newspaper crackled to page two,
metro news, another photo:
a moustache now, wrinkles
on his forehead, long hair at the side
with bare skin on top.
but the eyes were the same, cold,
distant, no mirth now,
just the evil of crime, of escape,
of the need to resist.
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Reviews of "Yearbook"
Reviewed by Vesna Perkovic (Reader)
Reviewed on February 15, 2005
..indeed you have the knack of potraying the truth..re life and it's many scenarios..well done..
Know what you mean Larry
I have a group picture myself
Of another type of graduating class,
And try to reason with the befores and afters
one never knows do we?
yours was an excellent write
William ....Peace
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
Reviewed on February 12, 2005
Oh I bought all my highschool yearbooks and would love to go back over them again. Two were burned in a house fire.
Yeah. I can relate to this, Larry. I don't want to go to far down that path right now because I know I shall weep for missed opportunities. Love and peace. Regis
You never know what will happen in the future. Some learn and contribute to society's good; others fall into the cracks and are never seen again; still others make headlines: either good or bad.
Inspirational poetry, written from the heart and soul. Verses that are well-suited for reading on a rainy day and that are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.
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vesna:)
I have a group picture myself
Of another type of graduating class,
And try to reason with the befores and afters
one never knows do we?
yours was an excellent write
William ....Peace
You never know what will happen in the future. Some learn and contribute to society's good; others fall into the cracks and are never seen again; still others make headlines: either good or bad.
Superbly painted portraiture of uncertainty.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
Love Tinka