The group of us talked about a lot of things —
about what yellow dresses symbolized,
these canary-adorned, faceless women,
the ones I still suspect in social gatherings.
We discussed what the green light
at the end of the dock really looks like
with unclouded vision,
feels like with unshrouded heart.
We laughed first, then cried
when 124 was spiteful,
full of baby’s venom.
In the hallway after the bell tolled,
he asked us,
“Where are you going?
Where have you been?”
and we talked a lot about how
You Can’t Take It With You.
And in the end, we felt so strongly
that the whole lot of us —
fifteen or twenty inspired youths —
stood on our desks, declaring to him
“O Captain, my Captain!”