LITERARY JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CAREY UNIVERSITY 2020
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LITERARY JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CAREY UNIVERSITY 2020
Department of Language and Literature
Pink Dreams Jessie Parker
The Indigo
2020
William Carey University
CONTENTS Baily Adkins Krista Foxworth 9 The Lonely Journal Keeper 16 Haiku 14 Figure Study Ed Friedlander Allen Collins 26 Gettysburg Address 36 Haiku Anna Henderson Trey Davis 33 Flower 5 Value of Life Lauren Gr antham Alex Dawson 4 Salvation 24 Haiku 13 Passions Read Diket 16 You 13 New Country 22 Little Girl’s Memories Ashton Dodd 32 Sadness 17 To Rhyme Steven Gustafson 22 Something Blue 20 Nut Kid 25 Summer in My Soul R andall Harris 42 Love and Light 9 The Love Song of J. Cletus Antoine Djellab Prufrock 18-19 Phenix K ariss Haymes Fr ancis Ellis 39 My Year 38 Haiku Chatham Kemp Loretta Fairley 43 Greenhouse 24 Autumn Leaves Brooke Lane 25 Buttercup Flats 13 Spoiled R achel Farnham 14 Petty Party 8 Color Bleeds 44 Roam Ciar a Fountain Sabrina Lang 7 Hand Study 1 44 Haiku 8 Hand Study 2 Eric Leatherwood 36 Hand Study 3 23 three love poems Ed Ford Christina Liverett 5 Woods at the Bluff 14 Wait 12 Heavy Weather 36 Comfortable 13 Rattler Trinity McSwain 15 Lionine 12 “A Liar, A Lunatic” or “Lord” 38 Stalactites
CONTENTS Continued
Editor’s Note Aristotle says that what a nation deems best indicates what that nation honors or reveres
most. It is evident, as we face another year of adversity, that William Carey University
Alysen Matthews 18 Yellow Sunflower reveres its faith, its students, and its community above all. In the pages of this edition of
15 Master Copy 40 Self Portrait The Indigo, you will find the hearts of the students and staff beating with laughter, with
30 Rings Meagan Smith pain, and even with a little bit of goofiness. If I were to describe Carey’s community in a
32 Lunch 15 OVERCOME word, I would choose “resilient.” I am honored to have helped edit this year’s Indigo, and I
36 After Bridgman 39 Japanese Magnolia encourage you to be inspired by the strength, the endurance, and above all, the resilience
37 Master Copy Carson Thomas that is woven into the words of our students.
Luke Millender 44 Haiku
12 The Swarm Rebecca Thompson Sincerely,
17 The contents of my garbage 18 Goggles
on the ground 19 Pool Toy Tiffany DeWitt, Editor-in-Chief.
Jennie Noonkester 25 Bubbles
18 Water 24 Figure Study
19 Water 34 Underwater Acknowledgements The Indigo would not be possible without the creativity, support, and
25 Chinese Water Torture K aleigh Weber encouragement that the teachers here at William Carey pour into our students.
34 Drip, Drip, Drip 37 Haiku Teachers and professors, without your instruction and guidance, many of our fine
Jessie Parker Ashley Wesley students would not have reached their creative and academic potential that makes
42 Leaves 33 Where do you find it? The Indigo a reality. We are blessed to have students who interpret the Lord’s
Dailynn Pipkins 31 Africa creation that surrounds them and channel their experiences into written works of
23 Space Man 31 Marriage art. The Indigo staff would, again, like to offer their sincere gratitude to Dr. Ed
Peyton Quinto 37 Peace Ford, who generously continues to provide high-quality art and design expertise
42 Haiku 43 The Sun(Son) to complement the works of our students and staff. The Indigo and its staff are
Ashley R andazzo 44 Winter immensely grateful for your contributions. We also extend our sincere gratitude to
17 Worm the folks in the Department of Language and Literature, especially our administrative
Rick Wilemon
assistant, Mrs. Dolores O’Mary, and our department chair, Dr. Tom Richardson. Our
26 Rings 4 Jerusalem Cross department, its students, and The Indigo would be lost without your coordination
Jeff Revette 10 Shema Yisrael and kindness. We hope the reader finds encouragement and joy within the pages
22 The Marred Life 11 Ha Kotel of this year’s edition of The Indigo.
Ainsley Richardson K ayla Williamson
15 I Wonder 19 Study in Blue The Indigo Editors
20 Return 44 Haiku Tiffany DeWitt, Editor-in Chief
24 Leaves 44 Winter Dr. Marsha Newman, Faculty Sponsor
Jennifer Scroggins Christian Young Jason Edward Malone, Assistant Editor
40 Our Smile 14 Marilyn Rachel A. Lott, Assistant Editor
Jonathan Sims 45 Seasons
16 Little Brother
Font Cover: Jessie Parker, Pink Dreams, Back Cover: Ciara Fountain, Owl The Indigo is a publication of William Carey University, All Rights Reserved.
2 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 3
Jerusalem Cross Rick Wilemon Woods at the Bluff
Salvation Ed Ford
by Lauren Grantham
Va lue of Life
So much depends by Trey Davis
Upon
Appreciation for life isn’t given, it’s earned. I myself had to learn this
appreciation for the small things in life that God had given me. It was
A brown wood during a trip in the woods with my Papa that would change my outlook
on life. I learned to love nature and enjoy the time I spent with Papa.
This is how my journey began.
Cross I was about thirteen years old, still in middle school. I was just getting
to where I wanted to experience everything in life, especially hunting
and fishing. I was on Christmas break away at my grandparents’ house
Painted with blood in Poplarville, MS. I always went there on the weekends after school
and on every other holiday away from school, but I never complained.
Going to my grandparents’ house was always fun for me.
My Nana and Papa were always wanting to go out and do things with
Droplets me, at the time I thought it was to just get me away from my electronics
and video games, I guess that was only partially true. My Papa in
particular was always wanting to take me into the woods around where
On the grey he grew up, he’d always want me to go with him too. Ever since I could
remember, I’ve always loved being outside and surrounded by trees
and animals. The feeling of being outside and surrounded by wildlife
Rocks. was always something that soothed me.
4 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 5
Papa would stick his head through the door that we had been to many times before, so cemetery, and the metal gate that Papa me. This excited me and relieved me as of the living room, where I’d be watching I knew it well. Parking the truck in an open welded himself. Once we walked in, I asked well, knowing I’d get to spend more time TV. He’d ask, “Hey bud, wanna go out ridin spot on the him who was who and if he knew them with Papa. And when we got home, Nana tomorrow?” I’d slightly turn my head to him side of the road, we got out, and got our or was related to them in some way like I would ask how the day went and if I had any and nod, “Sure! What time we getting up?” stuff out of the back seat. When I say “our always did. And as always, he’d tell me who fun. “I reckon I’ll wake you up in the morning.” stuff”, I mean a big backpack full of drinks that person was, or how he knew them. I I told her, “Yeah, it was fun!” And with that, he’d close the door and and snacks that Nana had prepared for us always enjoyed hearing him talk or hearing Of course, now that I’m a lot older compared leave me to it. Of course, this particular day the night before so we wouldn’t starve out the stories he had to share with me from to then, and able to drive. I go out to Little was different. in the woods. his past. Biloxi whenever I have the time, or when a The next morning when we woke up and As we started our walk into the woods, Going through all the tombstones and friend and I go hunting. Papa taught me got ready, dressing up in our camouflaged I began remembering when I younger. I deceased relatives, I followed Papa to how to appreciate the better, more beautiful shirts and blue jean pants, we loaded up would always bring my toy rifle with me and an open patch of grass away from all the things in life. Everytime I go back, I always our stuff into the truck and began our trek play soldier or hunter. Now that I was older other graves. We stood there staring at visit the same spots we went to back then. to the Little Biloxi Management Area. It and of age, I could hunt with actual guns, the ground for a good few minutes, until My last stop is always the old Hickman was large piece of government owned but we weren’t here for hunting. I suppose he finally spoke, “This is where I want to Cemetery. I’d go through all the graves, land where hunters or nature seekers could we were here because Papa wanted me to go down at, right here.”, he pointed at the recounting my memory of who they were go for free if they didn’t have any land find a connection with the outdoors. Not spot we stood at. and if I was related to them or not. And then themselves. We had land of course, but ten minutes into our walk, we decided to “What do you mean Papa?” I asked, I’d finally stop at that little spot away from Papa told me this place was special to him. take a break, sitting down on an old fallen suddenly regretting my question. He just the other graves. Unlike that time so long “Why is it so special to you Papa? It’s just tree that made as a decent chair. gave a small laugh and shook his head at ago, this spot was finally filled. My Papa trees and dirt.” I asked as we drove down Sitting there, I noticed Papa not eating his me again, passed away recently, giving me another an old black top road that was in need of food, but instead he was looking up at the “It ain’t nothin boy. You’ll understand when reason to keep on visiting the woods. Ever major reconstruction. tree tops. It was like he was in some sort of you’re older.” He turned his back and began since that day years ago, I’ve learned that “That’s where I was born son.” He told trance, or hypnotized by oak and pine trees. walking back up the hill we’d come down. you shouldn’t abuse your time. me, never taking his eyes off the road, as if “Hey, Papa?” I asked, finishing the sandwich It was at that moment, when I stared at he knew the way there like the back of his I was eating. His eyes blinked a few times, his retreating form, I could hear nothing hand. like he was coming back to the real world, anymore. Only silence. A breeze of wind “Oh…” I trailed off in amazement. Did that and he looked at me with tough, but gentle slowly hit me, giving me back my sense mean he wasn’t born in a hospital like me? eyes, of hearing. The trees rustling, the birds Or other normal people? “Yeah boy?” chirping, and the squirrels barking. I finally Once we reached the entrance to the “You okay?” I tilted my head slightly in understood what he meant, my eyes tearing wildlife preserve, we filled out some curiosity. up at his words. information cards at the check-in station, He smiled at me and chuckled a little, Wiping the salty water away from my eyes, and got on our way. As we went down the nodding his head, “Yeah I’m fine son. Just I ran to catch back up to the old man. old dirt road, I admired the beauty of the thinkin.” Afterwards we got up and started Walking side by side, I looked up at him, trees and the birds that flew overhead. back to wandering around the forest. the smile from before still present on his While I sat in the passenger seat of the After about an hour of walking, we headed face as we made our way back to the truck. truck, I couldn’t help but feel that there was back to the truck. Papa decided to take me Getting in and buckling up, I turned to him another reason Papa was bringing me out to the Hickman Cemetery. He told me that’s and asked, “When we gonna come back here, and that this wasn’t another average where some of my relatives were buried, out again?” trip into the woods. relatives that I was too young to know. He looked at me and shrugged, “Whenever Our first stop was at a small bridge with As we got there, I could see the familiar you want boy.” a stream running under it. This was a spot wooden post fence that surrounded the “How about tomorrow?” He nodded at Hand Study 1 Ciara Fountain 6 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 7
Color Bleeds The Love Song of J. I should have been a disk plow
By: Rachel Farnham Cletus Prufrock Scuttling across the furrows fresh and brown.
by Randall Harris
No! I am not the county agent, nor was
Hair once dark now bleeding stark white, Hands outstretched, pass without knowing,
You got to have smelt a lot of mule manure meant to be;
Eyes of the sky, film blocking sight, Feet moving, distance still growing, I am a lowly farmer here, one that will do
before you can sing like a hillbilly.
Speech gone, leaving only laments, Ears listen, sounds joining static, -Hank Williams To swell a silo, start a crop or two.
Arms reaching, energy long spent. Mouth opening, noise erratic.
Let us go then, you and I, I grow old... I grow old...
When the evening is spread out against the I shall wear the bottoms of my overalls rolled.
Heart sealed, feelings mere memories, Heart screaming, surface still quiet, sky,
Like a cow at rest in a pasture. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a
Laughs stifled, silent miseries, Mind spinning, pathway of disquiet,
melon?
Meaningless comfort, ears turn deaf, Soul searching, missing person gone, Shall I go out to the pasture and put Bessie’s
Let us go, through certain half-deserted
Foods losing flavor, tongue bereft. Calm fleeting, yet despair lives on. paths, bell on?
The paths of month-old calves, I can hear the cows lowing, each from across
Restless in their wanderings there, the way;
Connections lost, breaking to fade, Hair yearning for color it lost, I do not think that they will give any milk
With a familiar scent hanging in the air.
Mind reeling, fear and pain pervade, Eyes longing, vision beyond frost, today.
Actions slow, nothing motivates, Lips shifting, hope for joyful songs, Oh, do not ask, “What is that smell?”
You know by now; you know quite well. But we have lingered in the pasture too long,
Lungs heaving, crushed by the heart’s weight. Limbs unfold, waiting to belong. Listening to its bittersweet song
In the co-op the farmers come and go Of dying light and falling leaves.
Talking of why their crops don’t grow. It’s time for supper, I believe.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and “Do I dare?”
Time to catch someone unawares,
Time to scrape my shoes on the stairs.
[Someone will say: Who in the Sam Hill
made this mess?]
And now my shoes are clean again.
[Someone will say: Just wait ‘til I get my
hands on that Cletus!]
In the pasture, I have stepped in it all;
Stepped in it evenings, mornings,
afternoons;
I have measured out my life with sweet tea
spoons.
Hand Study 2
Ciara Fountain The Lonely Journal Keeper Baily Adkins
8 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 9
Ha Kotel
by Rick Wilemon
He was hard to miss, not of great stature; he was
short, very short, and wearing a tall, black hat.
His black suit perfect, as if he were ready for a coffin
and he was animated in the most peculiar way.
I watched him at the wall, arms by his side, slowly
rocking back and forth while his lips moved,
speaking fervent prayer with his eyes closed tightly.
I was an interloper, pushing my note into a crevice.
His shoes were black and shiny, toes slightly curled up
seeming too large for his feet; they should be smaller.
His sleeves were long with just his fingers showing
past the end of the suit coat’s black sleeve.
I closed my eyes to try and muster respect for the wall
and when I opened them again, he was gone, vanished.
Had I imagined this wee little man or was it a vision
trying to tell me something a Jew might know?
I left the wall for my hotel when in the dark, I heard loud
footsteps behind approaching so fast I clenched my fists.
Like a bird he flew past me quickly, his silhouette a blur,
little arms swinging like a marionette in a puppet show.
He moved so fast his feet never seemed to touch the ground
and he was a block away, then another block before he stopped.
While the traffic crossed his path he stood still, looking ahead
as if some important meeting or people were waiting.
The light turned green and he was off again, moving like
his wires were magical and the puppet master a genius.
I could barely make him out in the distance, though I could
hear his long black shoes clatter on the stone pavement.
Shema Yisrael Rick Wilemon
10 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 11
“A Liar, A Lunatic or Lord” The Swarm Passions
by Trinity McSwain by Luke Millender by Lauren Grantham
A Liar, A Lunatic or Lord Three months, no rain- just heat Your nails screeched across the black board
With Jesus this was the case Crops ask me for a drink.
as you wrote the lines of the game,
He is Lord. In this fact I have faith. Potatoes plead with me.
Corn calls for a quick sip. And I watched you smirk instead of stopping
A claim of divinity Onions order aqua. when they all pounded against the door.
A claim to be full of grace Clouds begin to form.
It’s funny how you thought that it would break
A Liar, A Lunatic or Lord.
Rains are coming soon. me all the same.
A claim to be the Trinity Clouds crawl closer. I hope you see who I am now
Equal to God’s place The once thick black cloud
Because you don’t get to keep me anymore.
He is Lord. In this fact I have faith. materializes into a swarm of locusts.
Clouds explode into an insatiable horde I scream in hope I make you deaf
A claim of infinity Scraping, scratching, clawing your eyes out
Yet his earthly lineage we trace Their jaws rain down destruction,
Pounding, banging, I’m sick of you.
A Liar, A Lunatic or Lord. binging everything in sight.
The harvest belongs to them- Come and get me.
To sinners he offers serenity The cloud transforms the land. I hope you do.
Sins, he claims to erase.
I will scratch, claw, and carve my name
He is Lord. In this fact I have faith. Their reign decimates our homesteads-
thousands seek a temporary feeding bender, Right into your little game.
Words laced with honesty then the cloud will carry on. New Country Read Diket
Sanity in his embrace
A Liar, A Lunatic or Lord? Wings like pouring rain Rattler Ed Ford
He is lord. In this I have faith. swarm upon us.
Heavy Weather Spoiled
Ed Ford by Brooke Lane
You wore a dress the devil designed
with tacks, splinters, and barbs
Pricked by its points, my skin became
warm and red with the toxins I absorb
I am infected with your bitter venom
12 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 13
Petty Party I Wonder
by Brooke Lane by Ainsley Richardson
I have never been fond of your malice.
cold attempts to make cruelty valid. How can someone
exhausting your feeble targets.
I realize now that you swell in melancholy. simultaneously be
I’m unsure who you expect will celebrate
all of the woe you help to gestate everything
when you throw your gray confetti,
and nothing
but I’d rather be a hermit
than to participate
I want.
in your petty party.
Marilyn Christian Young Master Copy Alysen Matthews
OVERCOME
by Meagan Smith Lionine Ed Ford
Your face is a cage
for a feral, starving lion.
The poised words I made for you
Figure Study Baily Adkins seep into my tongue—
Wait granules of salt melting together
by Christina Liverett until they don’t exist.
My brain numbs while you bore
sores into my eyes.
How can May be February? I can’t say this to your face.
How can sunshine be rain? If I sidestep, give you right-of-way...
Others will hurl coward at my back;
How can passion be purloined from a pond of pain? I can handle defamation.
I don’t have much patience I will soothe prudent in my skin;
I can live with denial.
But I’m trying to wait and see Otherwise, it’s death from this encounter.
How May can be February Bitter fear simmers deep in my core.
Then, from some secret place a battle cry builds:
When it’s already June to me. Overcome.
14 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 15Haiku The contents of my garbage
by Krista Foxworth on the ground
by Luke Millender
Leaves falling around
The colors growing so dim rubbish bin knocked off its perch
Cold surrounds me now white trash bag torn and tattered
stretched thin and shredded
Fire warms my skin with tiny teeth
We whisper to each other coffee grounds strewn across the floor
egg shells cracked and broken rest in a puddle of brown liquid
Together again
stack of paper plates
scattered in the shadow of the sink
The distance is hard
thin paper coverings that protected the delicate
I wish it would end tonight
cloves now crushed under
Alone I am so cold
the weight of a week of trash
noodle and sauce slowly adhering to the tile
The creek is so calm Diet Coke cans keep still
I let my feet dangle down fry boxes with a big red chicken lay haphazardly
The sun dries my hair and Bug, tail tucked between his legs, nervously licking
leftover cookie crumbs off used wax paper
I hate writing poems
I guess Haiku are okay Worm Ashley Randazzo
Alright I like poems To Rhyme
Little Brother Jonathan Sims by Ashton Dodd
You
by Lauren Grantham Hearing words that rhyme
The feeling is sublime
My mind only thinks about you. Forever I could pine
Sometimes it wanders so much I don’t know what to do- And waste time
My classes are driving me insane, And recline
And I am constantly pulled in all directions. Finding words that rhyme
Why is your name engrained in my brain?
I really need to finish this paper. The feeling gives me thrills
Gives me chills
It has to be 5 pages,
The kind you get as you come up and then down a steep hill
Imissyouandiwantyouhere
That is, of course, until
I can’t settle down.
You are unable to fill
I have 500 words to go,
Your mind with rhyming words and your mind becomes still
But my mind keeps chasing you.
16 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 17Phénix Phoenix
by Antoine Djellab by Antoine Djellab
C’est calme, il n’y a rien car je ne vis pas It’s calm, there is nothing because I am not alive
Je renais lors de nos échanges I am reborn during our discussion
L’obscurité revient entre chaque éclaircies Darkness returns between each clearing
C’est avec toi que je vis et sans toi que je meurs It is with you that I live and without you that I die
Une parole et je respire A word and I breathe
Un silence et tout est noir A silence and everything is black
Toi seul es maîtresse de mon destin You alone are mistress of my destiny
Choisi de quel coté je dois me ranger Choose to which side I should go
Je suis un phénix I am a phoenix
Je combat l’obscurité I fight the dark
Je vole vers toi I fly to you
Yellow Sunflower Jonathan Sims Je cherche un peu de paix I look for some peace Study in Blue Kayla Williamson
Goggles Rebecca Thompson
Water Water Pool Toy Rebecca Thompson
by Jennie Noonkester by Jennie Noonkester
Stagnant bowl Wet wave
Unmoving, paralyzing, numbing Flowing, washing, dripping
Frozen, toxic, lifeless, inert Sooths, warms, comforts, conciliates
Evaporate Splash
18 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 19farther from the city. Now, instead of fields, black shirt that contrasted starkly with the
there lay a continuously changing array of skirt that fell to her ankles and blazed with
forests and homes off to the sides of the reds, oranges, and yellows of different
twisting road. Some houses were concrete shades and hues. As the van pulled to a stop
and cinder block, painted in all manner of on the edge of her property the woman
bright colors. Other homes were made of glanced over, confusion marking her brow.
wood, mud, or brick and appeared patched Her hands were still raised, in the middle of
together in a haphazard manner that was hanging a bedsheet, when the van’s right
anything but. door flung open and the girl flew from the
As the sun reached its apex and began to car. The woman’s face quickly morphed
descend towards the opposite skyline, a from confusion to shock. Her creased brows
house came into view. It sat a little further flatted, and for a split second her face was
from the roadside than all of the rest of the devoid of any emotion as her mouth fell
homes nearby. This home was small, but open. Moments later, however, a cry sprung
not any smaller than the other huts and from her lips and her face filled with such joy
houses along the street. The houses on that her skin nearly split with it. The sheet
the properties on either side were made of was discarded without a thought, and by
mud and thatch, but this particular home the time it had settled into the grass below
had been built from homemade bricks. the clothesline, the woman and the girl were
Towards the back of the property, there embracing one another.
Nut Kid Steven A. Gustafson
was a giant pit where the red clay had been The woman’s shoulders shook as tears fell
shoveled from the ground, and next to it, a from her eyes and cries sprang from her
R etur n
kiln made from the same dirt as the bricks. lips. The girl clutched her tightly, a smile
The brick house had a tin roof and springing stretching wide across her face as she
up at one of the house’s corners was a wrapped her arms around the woman’s
by Ainsley Richardson large avocado tree. Fruit hung on most neck. After a time, the woman pulled back
of the branches, every avocado nearly as and looked into the girl’s eyes. She shook
large and as round as a softball. From a low her head as tears dripped from her chin and
The girl’s body swayed back and forth as the van she occupied jolted hanging branch of the tree to a post rooted fell to the red dirt beneath their feet. The
along rutted roads. She had long since left behind the bustling streets in the soil a few feet away, ran a wire under girl then placed her hands on each of the
and crowded buildings of the city for red roads of dirt. Flanking the which a woman stood hanging clothes. woman’s cheeks, stilling her shaking head
road on either side was an explosion of green foliage and hills that The woman’s hair, about an inch in length, as she used her thumbs to wipe away the
rolled off of the winding road the van sped down. The sky was bright curled atop her head. She wore a simple, woman’s tears, “There is only room for joy
blue, and the sun beat down on fields bursting with sugarcane and tea this day, Mama. Only joy.”
plants that could be seen in the valleys and on the hillsides. If a person
looked closely enough as they passed by, they could see people out
amongst the tea, gathering the leaves in bags that they wore across
the fronts of their chests.
Red dust flew into the sky behind the van as it continued its trek
down the road. The dust coating everything in its wake with a thin
film of orange that would remain until the next rain came and made
everything new again. After a time, the roads began to narrow, and
the hills faded into the background as the van moved farther and
20 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 21Little Girl’s Memories three love poems
by Lauren Grantham by Eric Leatherwood
I miss the rain in the beginning kintsugi master
in early morning.
dusk and first stars give way to a galaxy of order disrupted
Momma always made me call.
sugar and salt the broken vessel mended,
I miss the time we laughed out loud crystals spilled across the silence that golden transcendence.
The Marred Life Jeff Revette You would giggle and I would fall- blankets the scratches and pops of old lp’s
Over by your hand and heart
in to the cushions of your burnt orange couch. we read paperback westerns about this sky restored, beautiful damage
I miss you when the earth frosts over, and watch more valued with time.
the constellations slide across the night while
I always ran over-
satellites arc with synthetic perfection
To watch you and your daughter cook around the stove. like shooting stars sent to hear our fantastic
I miss the way you talked to me, wishes
The way your arms
wrapped around- hamlet’s plight
My waist
the world wobbles on its axis
as I bent
as atlas stumbles
over the stars’ light hurtles through the universe
But nothing will ever make me miss you more, already extinct
Than when the holidays begin to emerge, evidence that the center of this cosmic
And the leaves machine
f will not hold
a
though the rough beast’s deafening roar
l l in October. creates chaos and the weak lose their way,
against all odds, i shout into the noise
Something Blue the words of denmark’s sweet prince, Space Man Dailynn Pipkins
by Ashton Dodd
“never doubt my love!
Beneath the beautiful blue sky i love thee best, most best!
Behind the baby blue eyes thine, evermore!”
Inside the bustling, busy, boisterous, bonkers brain of mine
And inside the bursting, baffling, brimming bosom of my heart
Is where the belonging to blue—and you—first starts
22 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 23Leaves Chinese Water Torture
by Ainsley Richardson by Jennie Noonkester
End over end they turn,
As the water drops at a steady beat
gliding wherever they are guided,
with no control Pop, pop, pop
over where they will land; The wretched, pummeled sound my brain must eat
they don’t resist,
Dop, dop, dop
floating along with the breeze,
resting wherever it leads. The uncanny future crushes the mind
Snap, snap, snap
Lingering justice controls your precious time
Tap, tap, tap
Bubbles Rebecca Thompson
Summer in My Soul
by Ashton Dodd
So sweet the smells of summer
Figure Study Rebecca Thompson Buttercup Flats Loretta Fairley
Sometimes I sit asunder
Because I sense that summer
Is slipping like the sands of time
Autumn Leaves Loretta Fairley Slipping slowly, yet speedily combined
Sometimes I am scared that I am beside
Haiku
by Alex Dawson
And inside the sweetest time sentence I’ve ever known
Toes in warm sand while So swiftly how this soul in summer shows and grows
The sunshine is beaming down However, summer must succumb to fall, still I know
Seashells all around
That summer is safely swept into my heart
Flowers bloom with grace
I find myself in a place Yes, summer is kept safe in my soul and heart
Of meditation So summer and I shall seldom, if ever, part
24 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 25I often thought about the Gettysburg and most powerful microscope. Our little
Address, about America being founded on medical school on the Leaf River had several
the proposition that all people are created microscopes, and I started looking at blood
equal. Science and its truths are the and tissues there on my own. Since Rudolf
greatest equalizers. I wanted to bring my Virchow’s publication of ‘Cellular Pathology’
knowledge to promote health and justice in 1858, we’ve all recognized that this is the
for everyone, and especially the poor and key to understanding health and disease at
disadvantaged. a deeper level.”
Pedro and Maria Sanchez had come to our “Thank you”, said Pedro. Maria nodded.
town from Lowell, Massachusetts as the “I think I have the explanation. It’s not in
engineers for the new textile plant. The any textbook yet. I understand that Juanita
factories that were springing up provided was in her usual state of health until about
work for the returning Confederate soldiers thirty-six hours prior to her death. She had
and the former slaves who had chosen always had the yellowish color in her eyes,
new opportunities. Pedro and Maria were correct?”
an exotic, dark-featured young couple,
deeply in love, and they had won the “Since she was about six months old. Yes,
town’s hearts. They always dressed in the Doctor”, said Pedro.
traditional Spanish style, and taught the “And she suddenly developed a fever,
town’s children phrases in their language. and a physician thought she probably had
Pedro was amazing on his guitar, and malaria.”
when Maria started dancing with castanets “Neither Maria nor I have ever had
or tambourine, scarf and ribbons flying, malaria, though most of our friends have”,
others would join in with her or at least tap volunteered Pedro.
feet. “Flamenco”, they called it. “However, Juanita then developed a cough
Today, Pedro and Maria sat in my surgery. and shortness of breath, and despite all that
Rings I looked into their dark eyes. Both were the doctor tried, nothing worked. That was
Ashley Randazzo
teary. essentially what happened, correct?”
“Mr. Sanchez. Mrs. Sanchez. I am sorry Pedro and Maria nodded.
Get t ysburg A ddr ess
about your daughter.” “When I examined the lungs, they were solid,
Pedro looked back at me. He pushed his airless, and very inflamed. I touched a piece
sombrero back over his brown forehead of lung to this piece of glass, colored it with
by Ed Friedlander MD and thick, curly eyebrows. “Gracias. Thank hematoxylin and phloxine, the textile dyes,
you, Doctor. She was only five. She had and looked under the microscope. Cells of
This happened when I was medical examiner in a rural county in always been sickly.” the white series that ordinarily live only in
Mississippi. Maria lifted her veil and loosened the top the blood had invaded the lungs in great
I was actually one of the first doctors to hold this position in the state. of her dress. I gazed back at the stunning, numbers, taking up the spaces meant for
In 1865, physician-based health initiatives were part of the frenzy for dark-eyed beauty whose raven-black hair the air. They are called ‘polymorphonuclear
science and technology that gripped the reunited nation. I was drafted hung in ringlets. “Yes Doctor.” cells’. We don’t know what they do, but
into the Confederate army straight out of medical school, where I had “I’ve completed the examination. Juanita’s often we find them in the lungs in deaths
been fascinated by the cutting-edge science of cellular pathology. body is on its way to the mortuary now. such as this one.”
Now I was excited about applying some real science to peacetime I’ve also looked at some of the tissues “We don’t know why?” asked Maria.
medical detective work. using this instrument. It’s the newest “It’s still mysterious. I also took a
26 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 27drop of Juanita’s blood and looked under the microscope. Oh, wait. Let me do thread. Does anyone know what causes Europe.”
under the microscope. Some of the this too.” it?” asked Maria. “A single dose gives strength, perhaps
polymorphonuclears contained tiny I used what I learned in Year II pathology “I have been told by friends of those who resistance to malaria, but two doses cause
structures. They look like guitar picks in at Carey. I took a lancet out of the alcohol have died of it that these people’s parents sickness and death,” said Maria. “It is
pairs, surrounded by a clear space. No one tray, drew my own blood, and pushed and often seem unusually robust and resistant Charles Darwin’s natural selection in action.
knows that they are. They might even be dropper-stained a smear. “Take a look and to the problems of Mississippi’s climate. Poor Juanita has paid the price for our good
living things that cause disease.” compare.” So I formed a hypothesis and have tested health.”
“I see,” said Maria. “Like the agents of The husband and wife took turns looking it, and found it confirmed so far. I wonder I had read The Origin of Species when it was
infection that Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes through the eyepiece and talked in Spanish. whether we might make a trial of this now. published in 1859. Again, it had troubled
postulated in his article on puerperal Finally, they turned to me. Maria said, “Hola, Maria, Pedro, would you be willing to have me but it explained a lot. I had not thought
sepsis?” Doctor! Your red blood cells are round, like your blood examined?” of this. But it made sense.
“Exactly, Ms. Sanchez. That was a great in scientific books. But many of Juanita’s “Of course Doctor.” Both nodded. “Doctor, thank you. We will probably have
piece of work and ‘The New England cells are shaped strangely.” I took three more clean lancets out of the more questions”, said Pedro.
Journal of Medicine’ became a premiere “Some look like half-moons, or bananas, alcohol container. First I jabbed myself “We will want to follow your scientific work”,
world medical journal thanks first of all to or knives”, said Pedro. “That is ‘muy’ once again, and placed a blood drop on a said Maria.
his publication.” strange. Others look like bulls-eyes. And clean slide. I took another dropper bottle I have stopped trying to understand
I think that what I liked best about the times her cells seem less numerous, as if she was and mixed a bit of chemical with the blood, people. I already admired the couple for
was how Reconstruction was bringing the anemic. Perhaps that is why she became then smeared and stained. When I lanced their achievements, and what they were
nation’s most scientifically literate people tired so easily. Could something have first Pedro and then Maria, I thought of doing for the community. I simply looked
to the South. Our new president had been destroying them and making her eyes our new President at his inauguration, and at them for a minute, and then I could not
asked at Gettysburg whether any nation yellow? ‘Ictericia?’” his hope that each drop of blood shed by help but ask.
conceived in liberty could long endure. I explained what I’d learned from others. the lash would not need to be atoned by “Maria, Pedro. It was an honor to be asked
The new factory directed by the Sanchez “This illness was known to the owners of the blood shed on the field of battle. “This to find the cause of Juanita’s death. Yet you
couple was a symbol for all of us. We were plantations. A child would be born of two sodium metabisulfite is a good disinfectant are so composed, so thoughtful, so brave.
not just enduring – America was thriving. healthy workers and seem well for the first in surgery, and has been tried as a fabric You seem to already have accepted a loss
Pedro untied the bandana from his neck year, then become jaundiced. They would bleach too. It also seems to bring out that would devastate most parents. What is
and dabbed his eyes. “But these structures always be weak, and would die young. They the tendency to deform red blood cells in the source of this strength?”
– living things, organisms if you like – they did best as house servants because field relatives of affected patients. Let’s see.” Pedro paused and shook the front of his
must be all around us, and our bodies able labor would kill them. They would suffer In moments, the three slides were ready. poncho for a moment. “We will tell you,
to resist them. Why might Juanita have severe pains like arthritis at times, and they I looked, and saw what I expected. Without ‘Amigo.’ Maria and I have an idea.”
been vulnerable to this infection?” might develop leg ulcers that would not saying anything, I showed the blood to the Pedro glanced upwards. “The universe is
“I think I know part of the reason. The other heal. Death was usually sudden.” I paused. child’s parents. a very big place. We see only the tiniest
impressive finding inside the body was with “I autopsied three such individuals in the “Look, Maria, ‘mi amor’. Our ‘sangre’ portion. Even the planet Neptune remained
Juanita’s spleen. It was severely shrunken, past year alone. The blood shows these is different from the doctor’s. We are unknown only two short decades ago. I read
almost gone. A tiny, mostly calcified scar.” strange cells, and the spleen is gone. Just carriers”, said Pedro. Maria nodded. “Is in school about how Immanuel Kant showed
“Madre de Dios,” said Pedro. “I know that like poor Juanita’s.” there any way we could have known?” that the Milky Way is only one of many –
no one knows the true purpose or function “Could the deformed red cells become “No way in the world, Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez. what did he call them? – ‘island universes’.
of the spleen. But perhaps it is to protect entangled in the spleen and deprive it of I am terribly sorry for your loss. I am going Each would contain hundreds of thousands
us from these organisms. What could have circulation?” said Maria. to publish my results so that others can of stars. The cloud in Andromeda may be
happened to it?” “That’s what I suspect. I have showed this to know. This is a fairly common illness here another such place, and perhaps these –
“Mr. Sanchez, I do have something to show my friends who have suggested the name in Mississippi. Dr. Virchow didn’t discover what are they? – ‘galaxies’ is the word, no?
you.” I paused. “Here is Juanita’s blood ‘sickle cell disease.’” it because it’s evidently not recognized in -- are themselves as numerous in space as
“It must be like jamming of a loom by bad the stars are in our own Milky Way. And the
28 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 29Pedro nodded. “It does make sense in a Mississippi meet in our factory, they will put my ideas about “sickle cell anemia” on
way. She says she’s certain of it.” discover that they’re really all alike. We a really scientific basis. While the greatest
Maria continued, “The same would go for won’t even need scientists to tell us this.” benefits to humankind come from science,
everything else. If a battle goes badly in one “That’s my hope as well,” said Maria. “And those who govern have a responsibility to
world, in another the good people win. If I was thinking about something. After make it possible. I thought of the words of
an injustice happens anywhere, somewhere Robert E. Lee’s victory at Gettysburg, he President Robert E. Lee at his inauguration,
else the amends are surely made. And even was able to appeal to both sides on behalf that we would work for a better future “with
for the greatest wrongs that we experience, of peace, reason, and common sense. He malice toward none, with charity for all, with
somewhere else someone has the wisdom spoke for every American who knew slavery firmness in the right as God gives us to see
to prevent or make right.” was a dying, evil institution, and that our the right”
“That’s what Maria believes,” said Pedro. hope was sound economic policies for our If there are indeed parallel worlds where
“Parallel worlds. Again, I don’t know. But it changing world instead of short-sighted history plays out in different ways, I hope
gives us strength. Gracias.” greed. If the Union had won the battle, this is the final outcome everywhere.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about all this. The and President Lincoln had delivered the
talk of vast distances made me think Gettysburg Address instead of General Reference: Graham JK; Mosunjac M;
Rings Alysen Matthews uncomfortably of my own limitations. Finally Lee, people would never had accepted it Hanzlick RL; Mosunjac M.; Sickle cell lung
I said, “Thank you for that. This too is a new even though he and Lee shared the same disease and sudden death: a retrospective/
idea for me.” I hesitated. “Maria, Pedro. humanitarianism. And the war would not prospective study of 21 autopsy cases
other stars in all these places are not much There is something else that we could talk have ended as it did.” and literature review. American Journal of
different from our own sun. If stars form by about, if it’s all right.” I shook hands with Pedro and kissed Maria Forensic Medicine & Pathology. 28(2):168-
accretion of particulate matter, then most Both nodded. on the cheek. I planned a formal study to 72, 2007 Jun.
should have planets, solar systems like ours, “Sickle cell disease, and probably the carrier
and among them other earths inhabited state, are only known so far in people of
by living beings. I recently read a popular African descent.”
essay by none other than Edgar Allan Poe, The couple pulled closer to me and leaned
the fiction writer, about how large the forward. Pedro said softly, “You are a Africa Marriage
universe must be. It is unimaginable.” good man, our ‘amigo.’ I am Peter Smith, by Ashley Wesley by Ashley Wesley
Pedro held out his hands to me. “That’s an octoroon, one-eighth African. My wife
the scientist and engineer in me. But my was born Mary Ryan, a quadroon, a quarter
dark-skinned wife is a Spanish gypsy and I slave blood. We cherish both sides of our so much depends so much depends
will let her explain the mystical.” heritage. We have always lived in Boston’s
Maria wiped her eyes, smiled, and shook community of free persons of color.” upon upon
her black curly hair. “The universe may even I had suspected this since I’d met the couple.
a clean drop of a nervous
be infinite. That would ensure that what we “Your secret’s safe with me. It’s simply wrong
are experiencing here is paralleled on many that ‘one drop of blood’ should ever have water guy
different earths, by people who are us or made any American a second-class citizen.”
nearly us, but with each possible outcome “We actually are both fluent in Spanish, and swimming in the hot african filled with
realized somewhere. Every good thing pretending has been so much fun that it’s
that can happen, does happen somewhere almost real,” said Maria. “But tell me, Doctor. sun love
out there. Even if a child sickens and dies Do think that today’s scientific literacy will
residing at the bottom of a waiting at the
on one world, we can be confident that dispel all the nonsense and wrong ideas
same child lives and is healthy and happy that were used to justify slavery?” well altar
on some other. “ “I expect that when the ordinary people of
30 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 31Sadness Where do you find it?
by Lauren Grantham by Ashley Wesley
Half are married while one is not. And they need what we had.
Where do you find peace?
I became the next in line. I’m tired of missing all of you.
I miss the days when we were close, Was life always this hard? Is it in a place or an activity?
But life slowly made us strangers. I miss being so small and little. Where do you find comfort?
We don’t wave or stop and speak. I miss the games we played in Maw-Maw Is it through a song or a bowl of ice cream?
It seems we no longer have the time; Bernice’s yard.
Where do you find hope?
We work and never actually sleep. I miss always thinking that we would never
Is it through a book or a movie?
We never stop to wonder why. be a part.
I hope we find our way back home What happened to our family? And where do you find love?
Before we lose another. When did our hearts become this scarred, Is it within… or is it in another?
Life is short and we are GROWN And when did we stop “together Flower Anna Henderson
It’s time we see each other. planning”?
I know we are all so different, I hope we find our way back home
For we all walk our own paths. Before we lose another.
But we all came from the same family, I love you guys more than you know,
Our love should always last. I pray we always have each other.
The little ones are growing up,
Lunch Alysen Matthews
32 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 33safety of our maternal hideaway in order swim and panting from the heat. Porter and
to experience life’s freedom. If we remain Cloey cheered and admired Troop’s speed
in the solitude of our surroundings, then and persistence. As Beth peered outside at
we remain unfinished. Its measures sing the children, she began to notice the scene
with unchanging patterns of sound. But, unfolding in the back yard. Troop clearly
the repetitive, quiet pop maddens the wanted to be with the children to protect
mind in imperfect solitude. The sound is them and play, but could not figure out how
an odorless, bland, untouchable existence. to reach them because of the high walls
Being enslaved in whatever form… of the above ground pool. The children
hinders freedom of motion. With limited were clearly amused by the dog’s antics.
movement, we are just waves in a bucket or Then he did it; the dog figured out what
a human unborn. If that sound is all that we to do. Beth watched amazed as the dog
are allowed to hear – drip,drip,drip – or the ran to the edge of the fence, then paused.
wave on the surface is all that we behold, He was panting significantly from the heat
then no wisdom, growth, or freedom and perpetual running. He ran as fast as
emerges into existence. It is just sound… he could and face first into the seam of the
surface tension in a bucket. pool. There was a slight pause after the
“Beth, get up,” she whispered t thus, but then it happened. There was a
herself. “You must move, you must walk, sudden rush of a magnitude of water that
you must create, you must float about on hit the dog in the face and picked him up
Underwater Rebecca Thompson the waves of life. Don’t be afraid, Beth.” into the tsunami. Porter and Cloey rode
She slowly moves from the sofa towards on the dropping wave as it fell across the
Dr ip, Dr ip, Dr ip
the sink. The irritating sound must cease. yard, eventually being stopped by the
Turning the faucet to the right, she felt the wooden, garden fence. The dog began
waves of sound stop. The room once more barking and licking the children frantically.
was at peace and smelled of lavender. She He had freed them, and Troop had given
slowly walked to the back door of her house. them an adventure while satisfying his
By Jennie Noonkester
She could hear the children in the back thirst by lapping up the puddles left from
yard. Peering through the sliding door, the deluge. When water was allowed out
she saw the German shepherd running in a of its boundary, adventure and excitement
parallel circle, trying to get into the above happened. Water was meant to move and
As Beth lay motionless on the office sofa, she heard the beat of the ground swimming pool. He was just short to be free. It was not meant to be bound
water drops hitting the base of her porcelain sink. Drip…drip… enough that he could not jump in from the like Miller’s doll in the house. Just like the
drip…drip. The repetitive sound caught her attention as she tried to ground. The children laughed at Troop as human soul, it was meant to create energy
rest. But, the quiet, steady sound began to magnify as the moments he continued to circle the pool wanting to in freedom of purpose.
passed. The same pattern of sound and motion began to intensify.
Beth tossed and turned on her sofa, unable to settle down. Her mind
began to fixate on the quietness and cloistered sanctuary entombed
inside the peared sphere – this is where it begins. Without it our lot
cannot exist. The two are dependent on the other: water and spirit.
The sound causes reflection, solitude, and calmness. It is natural. We
are made of it as we are knitted together in restful play in our mother’s
womb. But, being born causes us to leave the comfort of the inner
34 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 35Comfortable Haiku
by Christina Liverett by Kaleigh Weber
I will never be good at the harmonica
The people are stressed
but I practice anyway
I don’t really care for ships or the sea All the stores have been cleaned out
but I’d like to sail away
Crazy is spreading
I’m not normally one to settle down
but I do believe I’ll stay
and spend Coughs are forbidden
Just the tiniest bit more time
With you. Toilet paper is a must
Hand Study 3 Ciara Fountain It’s corona time
Doctors are tired
After Bridgman Alysen Matthews
Everyone thinks they are sick
Master Copy Alysen Matthews
Haiku Fear is the illness
by Allen Collins
Stretching, relaxing-
Sinking into the floor
Mind and body at ease
Peace
by Ashley Wesley
Peaceful to stillness
Planning
Performing new straining poses
It’s all we do
Art of Yoga
Running, we can’t catch up
We are vapors, we are the wind
Stop, rest
36 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 37Haiku My Year
by Francis Ellis by Kariss Haymes
A bone chilling day Last Thanksgiving
Snowflakes are falling softly
A small house, large feast;
On a woman’s face
I give you all of my thanks
Before you depart.
Unshakable pain
The bitter winds will not stop My Favorite Hour
The storm in my head
Chill at 4:00 am
Only my breath is seen, heard.
Numbing my sorrow No honks, chirps, or words.
The fiery drink blinds my memory
I forget my pain Morning Sketch
The sprinklers are on.
Sickening eye fulls
Flowers watch me contemplate
Love flowing gently in spring A sketch on a page.
Nonsense in the air
A Warm Celebration
Why did you leave me
We’re swimming again.
All alone on these cold nights
Out of the pool. Open gifts
I am fatherless Blow out the candles.
Stalactites Ed Ford Japanese Magnolia Meagan Smith
38 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 39disapproval to her circumstances. She she told me about her new jobs that would
taught me through this to use my smile pay the rent and lights.
to protect myself and to protect others I always wished that my father had
around me. So, I learned to use this ability been more like my grandfather. I spent
to smile through anything, like when we many days with my grandparents as my
approached the doors of the local soup mother worked and smiled to get back on
kitchen Feed My Sheep. I really dreaded her feet. My Papa worked multiple jobs to
this place, but I would never let my mother ensure that all four of his children would
know because I smiled as if the experience gain an education, something he had been
was the highlight of my day. She was doing deprived of during his childhood. Every
her best to navigate me through life after evening when I was at my grandparents’
my father moved on with his teenage lover. house, I would hear my grandpa’s 1960s
The child support payments never came, Ford F-150 come into the driveway. He
because he never stayed employed long would come onto the patio, lunchbox
enough for the State to collect. As an in hand, and smile at me playing on the
adult male, my father never experienced floor. When he sat down and removed his
an empty stomach as my mother and I cap, my grandfather would let out a deep
experienced many, and this was because sigh of exhaustion from the day. I always
this charm always seemed to provide him a immediately glanced over at him, and when
woman willing to sacrifice her all to provide he caught my glance, he would smile.
for him. On many afternoons, as I ate dinner
Self Portrait So, when I visited him, which was with my grandparents, the phone would
Jonathan Sims not very often, I would smile at him when ring and I would answer. On the other end
he left me with the different women while of the receiver, a raspy voice surrounded by
Our Smile
he went to play basketball and hang out heavy breathing would ask to speak to my
with friends. I found a smile for each of Granny. My grandmother would let out that
the women, when they told me that they same deep sigh of exhaustion as she took
by Jennifer Scroggins would marry my father and become the receiver from my hand. When I looked at
my stepmother. Their smile was always her, she would smile at me. The caller on the
When I am first approached by a person, the first thing that catches unfamiliar to me. In most cases, my smile phone was the wealthy wife of a local doctor
my attention is their smile. I greet them back with the same imitation lasted longer than most of the relationships whose house my grandmother cleaned. She
of their smile. At times, I smile so big that my eyes are hidden behind that he had with the multitude of women. did not work, so I always wondered why my
my high cheeks that tingle from the forced action. Many believe that I smiled, as I thought of my mother riding grandmother had to clean her house. My
smiling is an indicator of joy, happiness, or perhaps the thrill of life, her bike to fast food jobs even though grandmother worked, cleaned, and smiled,
but for others, smiling can be a shield that guards them. Smiling is she had a degree. I smiled, as I thought but this lady did not work, clean, or smile.
something we are encouraged to do every day, and if you do not return of my mother riding her bike at four in the When I went to the massive house of the
a smile that is given, shame on you. In my family’s history, smiling is morning to transport me to day care. I doctor and his wife, I watched my Granny
just something to do that helps you get through the day and makes all smiled as she accepted jobs for which she smile and clean. The doctor’s wife told me
around us feel more comfortable. was overqualified. These jobs were the she loved my grandmother, and she was
My mother taught me how to strategize my smile when I was only ones she found available to her since not like the others, “She does not steal, and
very young, how to be approachable and express gratitude to others she had a small child and lacked assistance stealing is a bad thing to do.” I smiled. The
through my smile. I watched her smile at the local welfare office as with child care. So, my mother smiled, as smile that travels in my family; I smiled the
they matched food stamps to her newfound hardship with a look of smile my family paid for me.
40 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 41Haiku The Sun(Son)
by Peyton Quinto by Ashley Wesley
My body rests You walk upon the waters, putting your light on display
You put the man to rest; the earth makes no sound
An alarm screams at me
We inhale deeply of the newness of your day
I begin to cry When you rose, we broke bread and consumed your promises of
fresh mercies
Your brilliance catches the shadows, demanding that they be gone
I depart for class
My soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you
The cold wind pierces my legs Where can I go that you cannot be?
I walk on in pain Even the darkness is not darkness to you
You are there when I rise and when I lie down
And you will remain when I am gone
Lying on the grass
My eyes gaze at the dark clouds
How great is my God
Leaves Jessie Parker
Love and Light
By Ashton Dodd
One night on a statue of Jesus I read
A few of the many words that he said
The four verses spoke of love,
Then I looked to the sky above
The moon was barely there in a small crescent shape
The stars were small and paled to compare
To the lights on the statue that discouraged hate
As little bugs were chirping and flying in the air
I smelt the blooming flowers and felt the heat of the night
As I walked away, I looked once more to the bright sight
“Love,” I thought, “is what Jesus preached,
And love is what mankind so waywardly and carelessly seeks”
Like a spotlight in the dark, it is easy to see Greenhouse
That love can only be found through the man from Galilee Chatham Kemp
42 Th e IN DIGO 20 2 0 The I N D I G O 2020 43You can also read
