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In a Hollow of Sound | Jesse Breite, Faculty

we devote ourselves to small things— brief glimpses of light through the blinds. The flora gives answers to every silence. The afternoon cherry tree blossoms dissemble mid-air. We walk down the street, fill our hands with what the curb collects. My son throws petals back into the air, if only we could toss them back into bloom as light does with so much decay, offering daily matinees in April. We give small things all our attention. Emily and I sit at the table looking at a thousand puzzle pieces, try to shape them back together by color, likeness. You can almost forget yourself completely. Each piece a small, quiet misunderstanding blurring to frame, islands to something before. It’s small, our devotion—we hold it in our hands.

homesick, chinese brush painting daniel du ’22

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The “Greenie” | Max Brodeur ’21

He stepped off the plane feeling like a fool His parents didn’t tell him it was an all-boys school

The first step was to move into Cuningham Pretty soon he’d meet his smelly roommate Sam

Day after day Honors Geometry had him slaving away And the worst part was school on Saturday

Too many sports to play, he couldn’t choose But the more he worked out, the more he grew

Sophomore year was the year he thought would be his last But halfway through he realized he was having a blast

And after the moms finished their glasses of wine They sent money to their boys who just want to fine-dine

When his hair got long, Hyche had him chopped During job, the proctor made him mop

The cross-country team ran Wetmore Hill for fun That’s when he realized he didn’t like to run

16 winter, digital photography daniel neuman ’21

Junior year hit him with double the workload But he was organized, he cracked the code

His journey to becoming a gentleman wasn’t over His friends gave him rides home in a Range-Rover

Senior year he earned the respect he always wanted Even during AP-exams he remained undaunted

When he left Christ School, he was sad and blank He wasn’t a boy anymore and Christ School was to thank

the distance, digital photography jack britts ’22

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