Student Publishing Program ::

Rebecca Weiser

A Flash of Something

When every day blurs by
In a gray mass of The Same,
Each week will be simply Fine
In that monotone answer.
When the routine of every moment
Builds higher,
As dusty heaps mount upon the ground,
A haziness takes control.
But sometimes,
A face, a phrase
Will shine through the fog
A flashlight crying to be seen in the dimness
And eyes will regain focus,
And the smoke fades.
At least, for a moment.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]