Gyre197052long

Page 1

2-

~<l

oab:-

?Ari.;^.U--.

^


Digitized by the Internet Archive in

2010 with funding from

Lyrasis IVIembers

and Sloan Foundation

http://www.archive.org/details/gyre197052long


G;i?RE

LONGWOOD

COLLEGE

FARMVILLE, VIRGINIA

VOLUME

5,

SPRING 1970

NUMBER

2


STAFF

General Editors

Catherine Leary, Louise Dougherty

Art Editor

Vicki Eyier

Exchange and Circulation

Penny Ederly

.

Business

Manager

Bonnie Irby

General

Staff

Salli

Doris Andreason,

Akers,

C.

Phyllis Dester,

Lucas, Elaine Lisa

L.

Edrle

Bays,

Mary

Alice

Carmody, Royce

Claytor,

Dunnavant, Childrey Farber, Marcia Harris, Jeannie Kay, Pat

Newman, Cindy

Sasser, Tricia Shaw,

Donna Wadsworth, Eunice Ward,

Worthington, Jenny Young, Maureen Shannon

Advisors:

Art

Miss Leitch

Business

Mrs. Taliaferro

Literary

Dr.

Special Editorial Assistants:

.

.

Theroux

Mary

Alice

Carmody,

Elaine

Newman, Donna Wadsworth, Heidrun Ottmann.


TABLE OF CONTENTS Witch, pen and

Donna Wadsworth Joan Barnes

ink

The Sancfuary, short story

poem Wrong Number," poem

4 5

Departure,

Ethel Reiter

6

"Sorry,

Cathy Vanderberry

6

Adjusting to College

Or How

Never Had To,

I

short story

Untitled, charcoal

Catherine Leary

7

Denise DiVito

8

Untitled,

combination print

Alefa Sandkam

9

Untitled,

combination print

Aleta Sandkam

10

Strangers,

Cathy Vanderberry

11

Touching,

Cathy Vanderberry

11

Cathy Vanderberry

12

poem poem Janus, poem Untitled, poem Snow, poem combination print

Untitled,

The Box, short

story

poem poem Untitled, wood cut A Nice Lady, wood

Cathy Vanderberry

12

Cathy Vanderberry

12

Janet Hirshman

13

Catherine Leary

14

Untitled,

Salll

Recollections,

B. J.

A

cut

"Longwood Lady"

The Cage,

To

R. M.,

in

the Civil

War?,

short story

poem

satiressay

Akers

15

Rogers

15

Donna Wadsworth Donna Wadsworth

16

Elaine

Newman

17 18

Louise Dougherty

19

Pat Lucas

20

"County Fog," poem

Jenny Young

21

The Last Days, poem

Jenny Young

21

Untitled,

pencil

Debbie Comper

Untitled,

combination print

Eunice

They

Jane McCaffery

Lie, short story

"Three Blind Mice," satiressay

Hoffman

to

"To

My

Judge, combination

poem

Untitled,

Shattered

Illusion,

poem

Tree, linoleum cut

Bus Trip, linoleum cut Untitled,

print

short story

poem

22 23

24

Louise Dougherty

25

Janet Hirshman

26

Tullta

Favorite Daisy,"

Ward

Salll

Owen Akers

27 27

Brenda Murray

28

Donna Wadsworth Mary Alice Carmody Maggie Parker

28 29

30


— "Since You Asked" by Judy

From the Song

on album

As my

life

Changing Filling

—Wildflowers

spells into

yours

with the hours

up the world with time

Turning time to flowers I

can show you

That

I

all

the songs

never sang to one

Nothing more.

mom

before

Collins



THE SANCTUARY The dimly

pew, which now

lit

always

as

creaks

one

After four decades of

her simple meditation.

lost in

the scene continues to

familiarity,

maybe

or

a

maybe

It

children,

husband who teases about those horrible grey

ago

But only a short time

strands.

amazement.

instill

must be age that makes the difference, or

called such) this sanctuary

(If

years

thirty

may be

was one big mysterious wonder

and purple stained glass and gold-sparkled

of crimson

milk glass lamps.

Later,

eyes transformed

it

a

into

site,

not of mystery, but of serenity, with cool green walls,

and

and rows

stately,

passed;

of polished

memory combined

all

it

tall

mahogony pews. Years

into a fascinating picture

of mysterious stained glass enclosed within serene

green

not so unusual; the sun of

is

noon has chosen the stained

this late

gown

hurts the eye;

This

Scarlet rays from

tinge the soft green hues of the carpet; the re-

flection of gold from her brass

yellow

winter after-

frame of Mary on her

glass

knees, wiping the feet of her Master.

her

air,

Mary

and

cup sparkles so

brightly

it

as she stoops wiping his feet with her

the splendidness of

all

it

humbles the onlooker.

Yes, the place

is

the same.

age) that behold the view, are

amazing.

must be the

It

become

Inside a

name

Stained glass colors

still

just like

How

yesterday's.

memory behind

those eyes that

so altered through the years.

hymnal

secretly

morning. At

is

Inscribed

this

same

beautiful

Mary

still

in

by the same hand one

hloly

decade

of

Sundays and stared

the stained glass. Years drifted

went often

She did leave.

on

leaning

like

her

father's

by and

like

an idol

in

her

to

shoulder.

After two years at the University, Marie

She took a small position

tired of the work, the people. in

when she knew how

She met a man one who taught her how to and the love Marie had known for the little things

the city.

love,

relevance to her. She shared her life with him; one day, Marie even shared her secret of the green sanctuary and the virtuous Mary in the scarlet stained glass. lost their

He

Marie, too, began to laugh and after

laughed.

many

days of secret anguish, she had forgotten the childish whim altogether. a mother, a

Her life changed woman.

ence

Marie went back

father called.

the green chapel to

be with him

of death In his

of her

as she found herself a wife,

it

belonged

to another

hardly knew when sitting with him .

The

sil-

marble repose chilled the remnants

memory. The shoulder Marie leaned upon was

her father's;

pews

to the serenity of

for the last time.

man, In

the

a

not

man whom she dark mahogony

.

Marie shakes

herself

from meditation; the sanctuary

sunlight.

mysterious stained glass and the cool green walls the only

it

gives

peace she understands. Marie gazes solemnly

the scarlet

gown

of the beautiful

flaw catches her eye

is

She finds repose with the

Mary and suddenly

at

a

ragged hole broken there by some subordinate element. Marie bends her head and a

at

to the sanctuary; the vision of the

scarlet-gowned Mary remained fixed

mind.

things

place Marie had leaned lovingly on her

burning lamps around the green walls and at the

Marie

little

cries.

name Marie,

the

scrawled the

father's shoulder for a

the

love

darkened now without

of virtuous simplicity enobles the setting.

seem mysterious; soft green walls still reflect tranquility; and even the eyes, (though maybe more shadowed with

has

leave the quiet days of childhood

Her

borders.

Today

Years traveled more rapidly, and Marie was ready to

ifs

weary

dissenf of a fidgety occupant, offers repose for the

Joan Barnes


— measure

Time Several times

have journeyed from place fo place, from

1

fiere to tfiere

Tfirough towns,

Is

and

fields;

holidays; the excitement of tinsel and toasting deserts of through ghost towns of loneliness and

it,

Does

,

it

Wmutes,

,

.

,,

your mm<X< creep slo^vly doxvn the paths of hours, seconds,

They mean

Passing

Except maybe that

watch the dark Face pressed against a filmy window of silent streets, sullen clouds bury the ash gray world darkness. Pale rain falling into the endless ocean of Winter wind whistles through the naked woods.

it

little

really fly?

it

does

Moved by

emptiness.

weigh

there enough, or too

Or

cities,

WRONG NUMBER"

'SORRY,

DEPARTURE

nothing.

we never

take time to see each

other.

I

I

depression travel through the ethereal fog of

Aware

of the soothing

joyous slumber

in

cool, sunklssed

Sometimes in the morning lying on your hack,

And

of

meadows of lilacs and sky blue haze Embraced by love and life, my essence in

the trains, buses, and cars of

in

my

lite

I

How we

love,

we

separate,

your body. of the world in

their plastic personalities,

and

remember Pills, trips,

spoils the

minis, maxis.

Beer drinking, chain smoking, keys

we wander.

it

beauty of the moment.

your existence.

painfully

warmth

men.

With

In

see the

look at you sleeping,

window But looking through the ice-covered cold steel shells and xvorld Neon-lighted the see I

grass

But

I

I

rattling.

Always searching. Times \vasting, times passing. This is a recording, Sorry urong number. past, present, Stop! Look for the image of tiynes

and

f^iture.

your ivatch. by the heat of your heart, not that of win. realize now' that Time mil never

Go Ethel Reiter

I

This

is

a recording.

Sorry, urrong

number.

Cathy Vanderberry


ADJUSTING TO COLLEGE—

OR

The day dawned

as

the fulfillment of I'd

The

What

expectations of the place.

ever read about

although I

my

—sunny

days of departure should

had been

It

hadn't talked to too

I

many people

tests,

skit

and

back

In

personally.

figured these were excellent signs.

Dad had loaded from looking schedule, rackets

the car with everything that

at the

and

figured

catalogue and pre-mailed orientation regularly.

Tennis

guitars are always such a packing problem.

we were about Mother came running from But just as

dress which

tant white

we

to

had

I

pull

away from

the house with the left

From what white dress were

and

I

certainly would've

I

been

at

a loss without one.

On

arrival

my

Identifiable to fellow flock

members by

uniforms of their particular group. settled Into tions, that

I

my

put away, girl

first

I

What

On

a

little

however,

I

could

never seem to remember

had represented which

had gone with which

flock,

and which dress

the second,

—

just like

being

this

and

that the first

pattern never changed.

Thanksgiving

home,

to get all

to

effort.

When

the fun

I

so

finally arrived

my

to see

Oh

didn't

sure,

and the song

at college.

I

contests; but

and peace. been

I

In

of too

in

In

common

parties,

the

guess there's not but

those things.

And

besides,

the war, the moratorium,

never did

I

wasn't up on, and

things hadn't

was kind of

It

seem to have much them about the

much you can say about seemed more Interested

pollution

them about

tell

told

1

they

things

But

greetings and the usual exchange

Initial

we

could hardly wait

1

old friends, and to

was having

strange, after the

skits,

After the week was over and the dresses

was

It

sure,

little

attemping to get

strange.

spend your college years! Oh, there were and an occasional required speaker, but they were usually pretty dull and could be avoided with

way

a

classes,

anymore.

found, through frequent interrup-

all

had ever been worried And the best part was

1

life!

week became

month, and on Into the next

girls

had my own personal representative from each

Individual flock.

which

room,

the attractive

did not feel at

1

preparations, and parties.

of pleasantries,

eyes were flooded with flocks of

fun.

about adjusting to college

impor-

behind.

could gather, ceremonies requiring a pretty regular occasions

the curb all

week was

high school. To think

that as the

could expect to be using

I

first

with every minute filled with meetings, song con-

Everything

of a sunny nature,

HAD TO

NEVER

I

to supply the best possible light for

all

and bright and ready

HOW

like

the

to talk

last

much about

few months these

much concern

to

me and my

school friends.

That holiday was kind of a disappointment

girl. I

really,

but

guess things are supposed to change when you go off to

school.

At any

rate,

I

was relieved

campus, and what with

upcoming to think

festival

about

1

really

all

the

to get

back to

preparations for a

my big

never had too much more time

it.

Catherine Leary



"Would

that

The Prophef.

you could

live

on the fragrance of the earth, and

like

an air plant be sustained by sunlight." Kahlil Gilbran,


'Hunger

is

insolent

and

will

be fed." Honner, Odyssey

10

Bk. vli,

1.

300.


STRANGERS

I

1

come lie

to

you whenever you

beside you;

we

call,

talk.

You tell me you love me And when ask you to explain I

You are Funny,

at a loss for

Isn't It?

Making love

Words

LINES

why,

words.

Is

aren't

so easy, so mechanical-

wasted

If

love

Is

missing.

Please talk to me.

Or

is

love missing

In this

room too?

BY

TOUCHING

I

wish

And

I

I

down

the beach.

you so that we could

I'd trip I

could take your hand

lead you

roil

together

in

the sand.

love to touch you feel

so rich then.

Or maybe you would walk with me In the meadow, And you could tell me stories while pick flowers. I

To take your hand, or I

do these

can't

look Into your eyes

things

People have tagged these emotions "love", I

can't

tell

I'm not I'd

be

And

them

that

ashamed

lying

if

this love,

I

It's

only friendship

to say "I like you",

said "I love you".

what

Is

It?


JANUS

love your hair, or

I

Your eyes look

Is It

yours today?

beautiful; but weren't they blue yesterday?

Those lashes are so long

Oh

Remove You

—they almost

look false,

baby, who are you? that translucent

me

told

powder.

you loved me.

Did your love wear make-up too?

Oh, baby.

SNOW

Lies hurt.

Sitting at

Cold,

We

CATHY

used to

like to

swim

floating on

I

see the snow

untouched

falling.

purity.

never think of that anymore.

Lazy, soft, uninhibited.

Funny how the snow remains white

Maybe

I

my window

sterile,

my back was

It's

trying to

tell

until

It

hits

us something.

especially

nice.

But

now

floating, looking

up

VANDERBERRY

to the sky.

My eyes become clouded with smog. My face Is getting scarred by crashing My body slowly deteriorating—

planes,

Is

Atomic materials

Someday,

And we Maybe

to the earth.

fall

meet the earth, be crushed by our own mistakes. swim face down.

the sky

will

will I'll

Help, I'm drowning

in

sorrow!

12

the earth,



THE BOX Mary and

Frankie broke past Aunt

A

where the men stood smoking. The boy was

even

small,

he was small

for twelve

— and

his Its

dark.

The new black

mockery

suit

hung around

He

of his limbs.

He was for

"This

wooden

kneeling at the polished

those

pressing against

who wished

pray

to

and the starchy white

railing

hard

Is

Joe's boy.

down through pro-

and

finish trying

its

steel

Though

and powdered remains

it

and

their shallow

minds screaming

.

as

air,

his

coarse

around him

smiling

and smoking.

Frankie broke away, walking

the

ladles,

—walking

through the pseudo-Victorian

was

raining,

and the raindrops were clean and cold

his

ment, of

his

His best shoes soaking up the water from the pave-

face.

collar wilting,

his

November

freshness; he

and

head

his

had escaped

inhaling

the cold

—escaped from

the

women, escaped from the insensitive men, from the sickening air and the gaudy Victorian atmosphere, but most of all from the stiff, cold stranger who lay affectedly stifling

whispers from their crimson lovely"

be a great man someday."

against the heat which had brought a scarlet tinge to

him through the

at

felt

parlor and out onto the street.

knew the box It

ladies

He'll

He

his uncle's side.

and flab and middle-aged men threatened

swifty through

was empty.

"Go ahead and cry, Frankie." He looked up into the cosmetic-counter face of Aunt Mary. He stared beyond her into the garden

coat sleeve.

already stagnant

all

to suffocate him.

contained the preserved

of his father, Frankie

the

The men were

hard to project an image of dignity

eternal fortitude.

his

and out against

The smell of whiskey, cologne, smoke, and flowers; the sight of teeth

veneer

on

to rest

voice echoed against the walls of Frankie's head.

mahogany

collar against the soft flesh of his

Before him was the long, empty box,

neck.

in

room

Uncle Jack stood above him, the odor of liquor drihing

knees, hot tears against his eyelids,

his

came

body, making a

his

did not quite meet Macy's ex-

pectations for the average twelve-year-old frame.

vided

shoulders and

strength jostle him

info the side

sweaty palm encircled

.

.

"Just

like

lips

he was

in

.

.

.

life"

"Aren't the flowers .

.

.

"As though he

were sleeping".

in

the white satin lining of the box.

Frankie was relieved.

again.

polished steel box, nor standing flesh,

It

was good

For what remained of

in

and

the rain.

in his

In his

among

his

to

be with

father

his father

was not

in

the

the mourners; but here,

own clutched hands and burning

heart.

Catherine Leary

14


exists a summer have yet not seen Waiting down some street in Washington. It could he Atlanta, New York,

There 1

.

or

—

Sydney

Constitution

An orderly And 1 wait 1

sun-colored dream.

Avenue

cars speed, rumble, hee-p

my

chaos sameivhat like here on

my

mind.

shelf for the questions

create

answer

to

tJiat

.

.

.

like a patejit-pending,

or

some petunia

in Shirley's garden.

Sorriewhere there are dreams hut in the nightmare of self lose them. Child with glouHng eyes, laugh \vhile you are yet free 1

to forget the names of towns and and questions idthoiit answers.

streets,

Salli

Akers

RECOLLECTIONS

It's

funny

How Is

.

the sad

often

in life

drawn so

near,

And how it's held so tight And kept to draw a tear.

to breast,

how

In

the times

when memory haunts

The empty hours at hand. The mind draws from its reservoir The past's small grain of sand.

B. J.

Rogers


'Time's horses gallop

down

the lessening

16

hill."

Richard Le Gallienne, Time.



A "LONGWOOD LADY"

1865 when the Union

In

from Richmond by the

Army was

brilliant

where was Longwood or

that school which

become Longwood? Were academy told to go home in war?

led to

the

students

of

until

the

at

soldiers

those

to

to

who brought

school

been

lost

somewhere

The question

is,

same

the

the ancient

files

of

Day.

that

Longwood.

win the competitions did win Lincoln won.

Longwood were

he married?"

It

girls

.

.

.

"Is

false

beginning to

this

is

is

to see the

Longwood

Farmville.

doors.

After

Christmas vacation,

the North

do not have

hasn't seceded, to

other yet,

Early

in

became busy around Richmond. The

army march pass. Unfortunately, most of so amazed to see men that all they like cattle.

to

march past

The students were ready. They acquired packed

with the soldiers.

used to

this

The

soldiers

were not allowed

to

grow

food gradually as the students had done, so

week or more. Lee was able to capArmy as they rolled and moaned on the ground. This was how the "Longwood Lady" became known as the George Washington of the Confederate

busy

preparing for Christmas. Everyone has started to decorate

States secede, Virginia

all.

and then 1864.

lunches from their food service so they could have picnics

a

generally

is

1863,

students are

of scouting parties for the

The next day, the Northern army started

ture the entire

their

become depressed. The

could do was count the soldiers

because not even the decadent

seceded and

share to pro-

became

were taken

has

its

the South from the bar-

if

North would elect a hippie as President of the United Carolina

in

from that area were worried about their families and

the students

he good looking?" and

but

the armies

States.

South

children

because

male companionship.

men's college had contributed

women and

skirt

largest difference

And where would any "Longwood Lady" go to Richmond were destroyed? Well, Lee left Richmond to draw the Union army out into the open where the cowards would have to fight. In the very first part of April, Lee's army started to pass Farmville, slowly drawing Grant into his trap. The "Longwood Ladies" began to line shop

expected to

has been rumored that Lincoln

rest of the

friends.

and so it went with the The usual remarks about

hippie because he wears a beard,

considered to be

is

1865,

up

No one who

lack of

The

armies. Those barbarians are "cute" after

is becoming more and Young Democrats are trying

over.

is

to get.

cheered by occasional glimpses

competition.

national election.

becoming harder September was the

1862 passed, as did

the

for

and the

of the states that will.

barian hordes from the North. The atmosphere at Long-

wood

what would a modern "Longwood Lady"

The "fun" weekend

preparing

is

is

local

tect the

to outdo each other in the appearance of their booths. The red and whites are confident about winning the skit

"Is

May

in

before the election. The campaign

at

Longwood

The

there

Here we are in 1860. The presidential election is proving to be very important to the local men's college. The important issue at Longwood is who will win the skit and booth competition during the "fun" weekend about a week

this

all

situation?

more emotional. Chi and

fired upon,

required to buy a green blouse and a white

wartime supplies of food? This has in

is

least

material

wounded

brave

Sumter

For the September of 1861, the new freshmen are not

Did the students feed the

infirmary?

their

the

Were

WAR?

Southern states secede. At

female

days when the armies came

last

soldiers with their small

in

later

this

CIVIL

April, Fort

In

Lee,

1861 for the duration of the

marching upon the small defenseless school?

do

was

E.

Did the school stay open and active during the

campaign girls

Appomattox

strategy of Robert

THE

IN

sick for a

Union

States of America.

Southern

so tours to

be stopped.

Elaine

rs

Newman


"You caged

THE CAGE

pushed

flat

its

now our time

us,

trying to free herself from

its

come."

has

face against the glass.

An ape

She pulled away,

malicious gaze.

All

around

deep hatred burning into her. "Caged. We were caged. You are caged. We are free. You were free. You are caged. You are caged." She turned her head her she

this

felt

way and

now caught by

that,

a pair of angry lion's

eyes then snared by the vicious sneer on the face of a

chimpanzee. All around the glass cage pressed sneering, screeching

animals,

.

"Help me! Help me!" she shouted, and the echoes She pounded with ineffective fists on the heavy glass. "Somebody help me! Please help me!" She fell weeping against the thick translucent

swish enfolded her

threw back her screams.

"A zoo

walls.

.

... an animal

.

.

.

.

."

"Mother. pulled

.

Wake

"Marion.

Her

up, Marion.

British

nanny

You've been having shook

opened her eyes and looked up Nanny.

It

was dreadful.

I

was

her

like

an animal

in

"Oh,

not.

it's

to the zoo."

horrible.

All

Marion

tried to smile. "Let's

those poor,

poor animals." The

nurse rose with her smile

you go back

still

in

place. "Yes, dear.

"It's

her.

."

Her mother silk perfumed shoulder and right, darling. Just a bad all

all

these

.

.

Her

to her

until

it

roared,

echoing through

"Mummy!" bellowed. "She calls for her Mummy. Give her Mummy." A heavy bandaged figure flopped her.

I

go again

hair.

somewhere behind her

a cage."

The nanny smiled and patted her small charge's shoulder. You are much too sensitive, Marion. suppose we shan't

We

fear slowly faded as her mother and sang her back Into sleep. She was alone again. The animals were gone but the invisible cage remained. "Mummy?" She called, sleepily, fear edging around her voice. A chuckle began from

Marion

at the kindly nurse.

her

hummed

a night-

gently.

"Caged!

and comfortable warmth enveloped

awful. There's

It's

dream. Hush now."

.

shuddering, more hopeless.

mare."

screaming,

.

her head against a

stroked

caught in a zoo caged like Her sobbing grew louder and more .

leering,

were caged. You are caged! You are caged! You are ." She screamed. caged! You are "Stop! Stop!" "Marlon! Marion, wake up!" She opened her eyes. A whaff of perfume crossed her nostrils. "Mother?" A silken

it

beside

her

moved

without her

as

the

laughter will

to

chorused on. Her hands unwrap the bindings. She un-

covered the face and stared

Now,

torted face of her mother.

to sleep."

Mummy.

19

." .

in

horror at the wrinkled, dis-

"Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!


She

hand shake her shoulder. "Marion! Marion!" fearfully and peered up into the

a

felt

She opened her eyes

face of her father. "Oh, Daddy,

stern

was a

this.

.

Her

."

"Can

impatiently

"Marion,"

it

let

awful! There

was

it

TO

just

he was

He

left

He

not."

gentler,

"it's

looked at the clock. three

o'clock.

her and she was alone

in

Try

to

the dark.

With a shudder, she pulled the blanket up over her head and drifted away. "Marion. Marion. Marion." It became a chant. She

down

pulled the blanket

Tomorrow, Yesterday's today: And there are Strangers

one eye was uncovered. with quiet chant and heavy,

until

The animals were circling dignified step. "Marion. Marion. Marion. We've come.

We've come

if,

no

common bond

for you.

Marion.

of love

Marion. Marion. We'll take you away.

Marion.

Marion.

exists.

cage.

Marion.

Marion.

Solitary

Marion. Marion. Marion.

Marion.

We'll

put

you

in

Marion. We'll take you with We'll keep you with

one

of us.

us.

a us.

Marion. Marion. Marion. You are one of

us.

mouth

to

Marion."

She opened

Marion.

scream.

But no sound escaped.

Sharp,

bird

ways of life can be lonely

Marion. Marion. Marion.

Marion. Marion. Marion. You are

Marion.

seized her.

R.M.

it

"Of course

sleep, dear."

it's

"Marion,

become real." She looked up widebecome real, Daddy?" He shook his head

dream. Don't

eyed.

father scowled.

her

or alone

but very full— your thoughts

Furry and clawed hands

Quick monkey fingers pulled away her gown. claws

clothed

her

with

fur.

Small

inspire

black

a legacy

hooves forced her to her knees, pushed her hands to the floor. "Marion. Marion. Marion. You are one of us. Marion. Marion. Marion. You will come with us. Marion.

even though

Marion. Marion." Prodded and pushed, she crawled to

you're lonely.

window and out into the night. The scream of the nanny brought the mummy and daddy. The bed was empty. Her nightgown lay torn and crumpled on the floor. And from the bed to the window was a small set of claw prints that ran away into

May God

of inspiration,

the

bless

lonely

people.

the forest. Pat Lucas

Louise Dougherty

20:


THE LAST DAYS

"COUNTY FOG"

have seen death today.

I

always wondered what

I

And now

The

fog envelofes the county like a shroud. Seeping ii-p from dank corners beside the road

Until

it

joins,

Ohscuriyig

all

If

an ominous yet gentle ghost frotn xnew. The evening

I

Of

eyes gleaming

mind. You cannot see

bitter rain beats in

me

those

of

loved.

I

my

face.

any thoughts

From

all

sides.

Lamentation, a melancholy wail

To greet the newly dead.

The grass

Nostrils

in the

do not care anynnore.

Purging regrets.

Inexorably

follow the road, dully, without resistance.

The

the knowledge of what lurks without. Sometimes I yield and disappear into the murk.

And

the wind.

In

With

expanded with love of life. The fog is spiced \iHth danger, danger

their

Blackened timbers, and the doors bang

Once-bright lights noxv swimming, blurred. From deep within me wells the wild urges —

my work,

sky,

The hollow houses creak

I

continue with

like,

Lined with naked trees.

Into dragon-haunted fens. The pilgrims crawl their asphalt paths.

The call to set forth, explore, to kill Or be killed. Sometimes 1 sigh, leave my

was

a silver-ribbon road

Beneath a leaden

Blues the mist; the suhdivisions disappear

And

is

it

know.

I

And real

is

brown beneath

Ever ahead looms the

the charred

fallen trees. final mist,

Blocking every turn.

There

But neither can They see you.

If

I

is

no going back, even

had the will. have seen death, I

And

I

face

it

now, unafraid.

In the morning the white blanket remains. Hanging weightless as a spider on a string

And

keeping with

Fog

— bewildering,

And

it

the aura of mystery. suggestion of life

chill,

death.

Jenny Young

Jenny Young

21


"Quoth the Raven, Nevermore." Edgar Allen Pee, The Raven.



THEY

my

my

sat brushing

1

had

murder

Washington

the

in

tiring,

I

later

me.

crossed the room, into the big

now

in

I

lay

still

and began

was then

It

realized that

My

My

until the

could

away

I

I

it

as

normal;

for the

keep

the big old house.

my body

someone neared

could lock the door.

I

I

father.

couldn't find where

The person had reached the top the hallway.

was paralyzed. couldn't.

"Oh

I

I

opened my mouth Lord,"

I

of the stairs

tried to

was

I

could

I

in

heard someone scream;

all

moment

me

that

me

all

I

have suffered a kind of

a hospital for the mentally that

was

I

all

hell,

and

early;

right.

But they

They

lie!

lie!

man was a murderer, those women in Washington. you

see

is

hysteria,

The doctors

man was my father; that my and that my father was just

the

that

Can't

this

ill.

now?

I'm just

He

dead. lying to

part of hell; they never

tell

one

the

I

that

isn't

was

me.

you the

my the

I'm

in

truth.

to scream, but found

My

body lay motionless upon the bed. My whole being screamed for release of tension that had contracted my muscles so that they would not obey me. Still my mind was alert to the ever-approaching footsteps. If seemed an eternity ago that they started.

Jane McCaffery

24

I

on. There

move, but my body

prayed, "please help me!"

a

the horrifying details of his

nothing from that

recall

strangler's next victim. They're

and was

me.

Suddenly he spoke

I.

come home

see,

strangled

my room? Maybe

As he spoke,

it

tell

in

telling

You

heard

had put the key!

down

am

I

parents had

the top of the stair-

to

But the key!

Again

face!

words have since been erased

his

mind, which recalls

making sure

begin to tense.

my

a reason.

that

I

but

mind.

Here they

At

stairs.

instantly

weekend and wouldn't be

The key! Where was the key

walking

I

in

but

next morning.

feel

the stairs squeak as case.

is

heard someone climbing the

breath on

approach, can

to listen to the sounds of the

was supposedly alone

I

parents were

back I

first

I

my mind accepted

my

from

turn.

to

through the doorway and crossed to

dark, looming figure bent over

warm

did not realize

restlessness seized

night, the quiet of the house.

first,

A

in

hoarse whisper,

complete

double bed. Sometime

under the rumpled sheets;

my doorway! The doorknob began

at

bed.

feel his

continued to toss and turn. Trying to go back to

I

sleep,

I

and crawled

lay

I

my

Post.

reached across the dressing table and

turned off the lamp. darkness,

Now

Someone walked

could remember the vivid description of the

I

My arm

Thoughts of the strangler who

hair.

few nights before wandered through

struck again a

mind.

LIE


"THREE BLIND MICE"

The

contained

social significance

"Three Blind Mice"

As

obtuse.

at

Is

have stated

I

In

my

in

The reasons

the children's song

once evident even essay

to the

are not clear.

tor persecution

"The Mulberry

Or perhaps

Bush," children's song's and rhymes contain a wealth of

Jewish race of the animal world.

material for the discerning reader.

as that popular scapegoat, the bitterly

The mice, symbols see

In

how

how

they run, see

fate,

harassed on

all

sides.

"They

all

blinded

The tune, a gay

In

your

affair,

lilting

life

their harried defence,

Why they

have

as three blind

hounded

until

they turn

at

In

blood-thirsty

degeneracy

reflection

adult?

for

for a

bay and attack

moment

mice are

their

"Mulberry

As we have

because

life.

Helplessness, of

common

and bleak

suffering unallevlated

by the

a

carving knife."

as three blind In

they

child's

a

mice?"

song

devour canine

seen,

a

world

Is

this

mirrored of

the

ample argument for this theory. tails, even though the pain may be mice are not

creatures Indeed.

Bush",

Cruel,

Is

Intense, talless

pitiful

it must be, because that Is the way of The mice, blinded by some haphazard Fate or malicious Chance, are helpless against their massive foes.

Is

may appear,

totally helpless.

Ah, exclaims the perceptive reader, but three

are

of the song.

This

canine

But mice without their

abbreviated

Why

the

of

life

Certainly, there

attackers only to be viciously punished for their audacity?

human

your

such a sight

mice?"

huge carving implement.

are the three blind mice so persecuted?

they figure

oppressed Ameri-

connection with "Did you ever see

In

Did you

poor victims who,

their tails brutally

these tiny victims

off their tails with

bloody, degenerate

provides a grim contrast to

the fate of the three pitiful mice,

with that

"She cut

by

ran after the Farmer's

wife; she cut off their tails with a carving knife.

ever see such a sight

in

group.

they run." The poor mice, foes,

as

It

are most assuredly the figuring of a persecuted minority

the work. "Three blind mice, Three blind mice,

pursued by Inconceivably horrendous

However

can Negro.

are easily the most outstanding

of course,

Is

"Hap", by Thomas Hardy? Or is it a perverted, animalistic anti-semitIsm? The blind mice may function as the

most

In

both

children's

And

there

"Three songs

Is

Blind

neatly

blind, talless

the tragedy

Mice" and parallel

the

drudgery, the shame, the cruelty, the pain of the adult world.

light

Is

It

right to

expose young Innocents to such a

world a world at such a tender age? That, dear reader,

sunshine or spiritual hope.

I

leave up to you.

Louise Dougherty

25


'Thou art weighed

in

the balance

.

.

."

Old Testament:

Daniel, v. 27.


It is early.

Outside, there calls a meadowlark

He

feels the pulse of spring, of life.

The

trees blossom, huds swelled near bursting. Grass mid other vegetation strain to break through the Earth. If one listens, one can almost hear the

Growth of green coming All a sharing of Nature.

The sun Sharing

tip,

and

roots going

down

MY

"TO

upward in its climb; it, too, warmth and radiance -uHth all matter on

inches its

FAVORITE DAISY"

earth.

Within man comes the need to share, to he a part of Another being. And why not? Shoidd man alone be Different from the rest of Nature's creations?

Ah! Her prime creatioit! No. Man needs, also, to share. How? One seeks and finds a sharer — Another seeks and finds nothing — He, with all the teeming activity of life about, Cannot face the emptiness, and obliterated himself, Or he withdraws to himself and the solitude, and stays. One must not look too hard: disappointment and

Twilight

early

At the center

And we

have

The a

is

day:

sicy is

an opal,

faintly

glowing;

muted rainbow, changing

as evening into night. Pink

much

of the circle that

to drink in the purple-greying air.

Outside, there calls a meadowlark

a sigh,

Daisies folding face up

Rejection both prove hard lessons. But then. It is

is

a pause to whisper

chimes

And

to learn.

roll

as contented

Tulita

Owen

off into pearly clouds,

a smile spreads

day

its

warmth,

kisses night, at twilight.

Salli

27

Akers


SHAHERED

ILLUSION

Six shining stars in a closed circle,

An

intangible

bond

intertwining each.

Six shining stars in a deceitful space,

A

dormant mist

violently

Six shining stars in a

A

shattered

infinite sky

The

circle

of

awareness,

illusion silently falls.

Four shining stars

An

emerges.

moment

.

.

in a .

closed circle.

two wandering

stars.

was too small???

The bond was too weak!!!

Brenda Murray



Maybe belonged

I

was wrong

to

trying

In

to

cage the

Through my

he

sky;

Faithfully,

the stage

my problems and

hear

was

there,

still

.

"The stage

right, the light

remained,

ness

making

ness,

while

listening

sobbed. The eternity

of the

come. "I know why," he

me that no one He smiled.

or

me

"How ing

strands

of

could say

"I

it

will

soon

hair all

be

ing

if

He come

wasn't surprised that

moon

color shades better,

but

wouldn't

the tears

came again

at

wonder-

was forever pain and solitude. reached out and wiped a tear from

it

worked

looked up as a

"Who're you I

life

my

he knew.

right to try to

own

that way, but.

There were noises back stage

blue.

it

wish

"I

choos-

of

had no

it?"

"It

he asked gently.

was

just

a

bad

the sky."

I

me?"

me, the

I

swung open.

And

car went by on the dark street outside.

"Here you own the whole world." "Only a corner of it." turned and sighed. He shook his head in disagreement, but said nothing. But the real "I tried to make it the whole world once. world dragged me back out." "If the world claims all of you, why can't you ask for a small portion, like the sky, in repayment?"

I

help now."

"You're right."

A

And

floor.

blue eyes, that might have

to

things about

tell

scene.

sat in front of

black

his

could

It

ever knew."

moon-

lonely."

He

when

listens

"It

into the pool of

long have you been watching

"For a while."

told him.

"Would you like to talk about "His name is Steve, isn't it?"

asked.

I

"You looked so

I

would

cried with mine.

"Do you?"

friend,"

tears

on the stage

in crystal

universe of suffering

my

stood and walked around the open puddle to the edge

I

of the stage.

face that held the compassion for a

his

never

empti-

and no more

moved

had never I've

my

I

spread out before

light

looked up into

story,

is

theatre could speak

this

"If

said.

wasn't startled as he

I

my

related

audience engulfed

insignificant,

it

I

I

know."

"I

my mood my touch

board switches responded to and the whole auditorium smiled. In other moods, dark-

was

carefully.

many people

no one else cares."

.

waiting silently to

absorb. Sometimes when

watched him

I

seen before.

was "So long," and walked out of my life without looking back. That was all there was to it, except the bad taste, the emptiness, the need to cry forever and ever. said

.

tears

seen him before, yet there are

All he'd

no one but the wind and freedom.

cheek. "You

light

." .

.

—people

came on and

in

the shop.

Mike'e head appeared around the corner. talking'

glanced down

to?"

at the

empty pool

of moonlight.

"My-

self."

here often," he stated quietly. "I've always wanted

to speak to you."

Maggie

30

I

the large shop door

Parker









Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.