Daniel Wyman

Love's Toys

By Daniel Wyman
Montpelier High School, Grade 12

They are the sweetly doomed
Young lovers, holding hands.
a ring on Her finger, His innocent gift.
She loves it, She loves him, loves the look in his eyes.
He loves Her, He holds Her, but soon come the lies.

That ring loses luster
That look in His eyes
Has dimmed as the shine of their innocence dies.
She loves him, She holds Him, but deep in Her mind
She doubts Him, He wanders, but love tells no lies.

She knows that they’re destined
This damned, sweet two.
He thinks that he loves her
If only He knew.
She loves him, She thinks, oh where is Her ring?
He’s noticed, He’s hurting, oh look at His eyes.

He finds her old ring
Of all places here:
The back seat, a friend’s car
Does confirm fear.
She loves him, not Him, not her ring-bearer boy.
He hates her, He hates him, love treats us as toys.

The Grass is Dead on the Other Side

By Daniel Wyman
Montpelier High School, Grade 12

I feel ripped from a tapestry
Taped hastily
To the facing wall
Only to watch the hole I’ve left.

Morning, I watch my void
Voraciously
Wishing to return
Now light edges in, illuminating
The easy brush strokes from which I was torn;
A scenery coming clear
Of inviting white light, bordered by cherubs
Carefree and safe.

Midday, my past position glares
As if to cast blame on me
Implying with a stare
Infidelity
But I can only gaze in want
And hurt at my rejection
While gardens and doves join the cherubs
In beauteous insurrection
They rejoice in notes of splendor
And songs of lovers.

Night, I squint at the remains;
My old outer edges blurring
But reflecting still
Their reverie.
The skewed cherubs fade and doves fly away;
Gardens grow thin to grass
Until
There is no anything, there lies a frame.
But I lay bordered by limitless boundaries

Night after Day

By Daniel Wyman
Montpelier High School, Grade 12

Let the sun set on this final day.
The day we all wait for.
But don’t let me know, as the sun descends
Don’t let me know I won’t see it again.

Just stare at the black; the giants and dwarves
In dazzling supernovas, all suns will set
And everything known comes crashing down
And the air halts its flow, so particles hold still.
Dust balls become comets until the burnout
Of most brilliant colors

And what color will there be when black does not exist?
I will wonder as the sun sets.
Just don’t let me know.

"Twigs"

By Daniel Wyman
Montpelier High School, Grade 12

We feed from the same earth
spring from the same tree
yet I shiver to think the same lifeblood
is shared between you and me.

You offer yourself to the worms
change colors absent of fall
and drink the most toxic of rain.

From my branch I don't know
whether to shield you with my leaves
or let the corruption course through your capilaries
as you dissolve inside and out.