by Sarah D Kirchner on November 7, 2019

Portfolio

by Sarah Heavren ’21

I remember,
Thinking of days gone by,
That this started
With the blink of an eye.

 Before I was ready,
Somehow I knew
By some way at some time
I’d be with you.

 You were the first to listen
And the first to enjoy
The witty and clever
Humor that I deploy.

Over time,
Through many a pun,
It is true,
My heart you have won.

No matter what they say,
I will never deny
That I love all the puns
Of my sweet, punny guy.

by Sarah D Kirchner on November 7, 2019

Portfolio - Poetry

Here, November, warmth retires—
Rush to start the Winter fires!
Yet the Sun has not retreated
And left him for whom It’s needed
Without the glow which inspires.
And on the dead for which It’s whitest;
Yes, brighter, nay, the brightest;
Now on them shall It remain,
Now, on them, who have no pain.

by The Cowl Editor on October 24, 2019

Portfolio

by Sarah McLaughlin ’23

Tourists converge from Earth’s every corner to see
The piece of the past stored on this pebbled beach

All paths extending westward from the east
Meet here, the first of our nation’s vertices

It’s so special to so many, apparently
To view—The Rock—which began our history

They’ve never switched it out, supposedly
The first stone tread upon by pilgrim feet

It’s always tempting, every time you meet
Someone for whom it’s always been their dream

To stare down at this thing—a comical scene—
To make up some absurd conspiracy

“Now, I’m not saying it’s a government scheme,
But I think it was replaced in ’63.”

But then I decide instead to let them be
To let them stare—reverential and naive

We all have Rocks—things we cling to and esteem
And no local lark could break our make-believe.by

by The Cowl Editor on October 24, 2019

Portfolio

by Sean Tobin ’20

One of mine, but given:
Today when I arise
And see slow-rolling skies
Illuminate what lies
This bleak side of heaven,

Just one thought do I save—
How bless’d this northern shore;
The same which fathers fore,
Sea-sick, God-starved, back-sore,
Saw and knew they must have;

We know the sounds she made,
To hear minute man’s shout,
The Sacred Harp throughout,
Oak leaves falling round ’bout,
Over and over played;

Is she not the same still?
Green mountains surrounding,
Waves on white rock pounding,
Life through valleys sounding—
New England steals her fill, and so much more.

by The Cowl Editor on October 24, 2019

Portfolio

by Erin Venuti ’20

by The Cowl Editor on October 10, 2019

Portfolio

by Gabriela Baron ’20

I can’t believe that you did that to her.
You wore a mask of false integrity.
She was a captive, now unleashed from “sir”
Yet sinking back into naiveté.

The door is open, but she stays inside.
The birds are singing but she cannot hear.
I still don’t know where she wants to reside
She has no home, a lonely bright-eyed deer.

One day will come that she begins to change,
I hope the hands move faster around the clock
So she can be awake and estrange
Herself from him, unlatch the door, break the lock

Just as the hatchlings will learn to take their flight
Just as the sun rises to bring daylight.

by The Cowl Editor on October 3, 2019

Portfolio

by Connor Zimmerman ’20

A traveler without a compass.
A driver without a map.
A pilot without coordinates.
A sailor without the night stars.

My life is a journey without a destination in sight. Being pushed by a force that is beyond my control, I wonder how much longer I can go without some light. A reason that will make it all worthwhile. It is a small thing to ask for, but one that will make each step matter along the countless miles. I’m traveling in hopes of finding a reason:

A reason for why I am alive.
A reason for why I need to survive.
A reason that will give me my purpose.
A reason that will finally give me a direction.

People say it’s about the journey and not the destination, but what actually keeps us going? I envy those who can continue on traveling without knowing. They say that it is simple because they believe they are where they are meant to be. But I do not have their conviction, and I question my every move to the nth degree. I must continue moving; however, because I can hear it with every step I take… tick tock:

The sands of time are many, but every grain is insignificant.
Grain by grain, time falls swiftly and cruelly,
Doing its job without concern.
Until it buries us alive.

How many grains have I wasted? Wandering about aimlessly, I know that I am missing that for which I was created. How many lost connections, opportunities, memories have I sacrificed in my exploration? What if I have abandoned the trail that was made for me and wandered into damnation? It’s a question with no answer because I still lack the ability to truly see. I lack the ability to rid myself of these shackling thoughts and be set free. However, I will keep traveling because I know that there must be a reason:

Always
Walking,
Driving,
Flying,
Sailing,
but never knowing the destination.

by The Cowl Editor on October 3, 2019

Portfolio

by Sarah Heavren ’21

What if we listened
Instead of just heard
The meaning of
Somebody’s words?

What if we saw
Instead of just looked
At pictures
Somebody took?

What if we cared
Instead of just did
Whatever we
Thought we wanted?

What if we felt
Instead of just thought
About things that
Matter a lot?

by The Cowl Editor on October 3, 2019

Portfolio

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

Looking at the stars, we thought to ourselves:
The two of us could have lived different lives
If only we had told each other the truth
But, we were scared and we were liars.

The two of us could have lived different lives
together. But we played those childish games
and kept being scared and lying kids.
Being something more seemed crazy then.

Together we played those childish lying games
and laughed at that old movie we watched
because being something more seemed crazy,
but truly they made sense as a couple.

We laughed at that old movie
especially when they kissed,
but they truly were meant to be a couple.
I saw that they were made for each other.

When we kissed,
the movie came back to me in flashes.
We weren’t made for each other like they were
and you weren’t my prince like he was.

Flashes of the movie came to me.
If I only told you the truth
you could have been my prince like him.
But now I look at the stars, and think to myself.

by The Cowl Editor on October 3, 2019

Portfolio

by Sarah McLaughlin ’23

Wouldn’t it be great
To someday be
So famous
You’re signing passport books
And grocery receipts
Gathering a crowd
Outside of the White House?

Most famous place on earth
They’ve traveled so far
To see it
And they happen to catch you
Hold out a pen
Ask for your name

Because they don’t know it yet
Barely twenty
Standing there
Sore feet from stiff new heels
Carrying the mailbag
For the President