IN LOVING MEMORY

IN LOVING MEMORY

By Hayley Gregor

The Friday morning sky

Sat a dull gray-blue,

Heavy and flat

With few shreds of clouds

And a haunting fog

That left glistening dew

To chill the schoolyard.

The drop-off line

Of cars inched forth slowly

And their drivers sat distracted

But this wasn’t too grave.

Almost nothing could spoil

Such an impatient day

And lovely learning center

They had made it to the

Day before winter break,

The drag before the run home

To sweet celebration with families,

Making that Friday a day

No child could sit still

Even Ms. Gard,

Usually an unhurried

Kindergarten teacher,

Glanced at the clock

As she filled each

Little paper stocking

With a single candy cane.

Though she wasn’t

Ready to leave

Her sweet-voiced

Kindergartners.

Outside by the face of

The faultless elementary school,

Ms. Vent jumped when she heard

The honk of a car behind her

Break the steady hum

Of the carpool river.

Mrs. Vent had been

Dreaming of Christmas

With her family;

Unwrapping gifts with

Her five-year-old daughter who

Loved to watch the snowfall

And hear the count

Of the New Years ball drop.

She then quickly

Pulled up to the front

And blew a kiss goodbye

To Sadie who leaped

Into frosty Connecticut air.

With her heavy pink backpack

Dangling from thin shoulders

She pedaled her short legs

Past the crumbling

Sign that read:

SANDY HOOK

SCHOOL

1956

That was the sign that

Is remembered today.

Over there

Is the parking lot

Where weeping parents

Would pray.

Those were loving dreams

replaced with distraught.

This is a schoolhouse

That witnessed a lot.