Fabrications 12

3 June 2014Lindsay B.E., Alexandra '14, Painting by Brynn C, Mackenzie '16

In remedial math we learned That a hyperbola Grows infinitely close to an Asymptote, but never touches it. As I gazed away from the messy chalkboard, I thought: That’s a little sad. In history class, the teacher said That in Japan, there is an aging population And a generation whose half-forgotten poetry No longer sings of love. As I gently closed my text, I thought: That’s a little sad. In Chemistry 101, our first lesson Focused on How atoms are ninety-nine percent E m p t y s p a c e . As I placed down my pencil, I thought: That’s a little sad. In biology, it seemed That the birds and the bees had Only one goal: survive. As I packed up my binder, I thought: That’s a little sad. In English class, the poets all Mused upon the Imminence of Time and the Finality of Death. As I filled the page with marginalia, I thought: That’s a little sad. But in physics, I was told That light is the One True Constant. When I see dappled hues flecking Through the ocean’s spray, I tend to agree. When I see world the colour Of bone and beauty From the late November moon, I concur. When I look up to the stars and see A thousand in your eyes — and The history of humanity, Of ecology, of astronomy, I see billions of years in your Perfect eyes — and I hope That you are not a curve, Nor I an asymptote. Lindsay B.E., Alexandra ’14,

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