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Sophomore Year: Winter Term
by Patrick T. Randolph
Kei reads a poem—snowflakes descending,
His young mind opens itself to silence.
Silence is lonely but good, sad but pure.
The white pages and black print are silent,
The poem covers itself in winter,
His room is cold, his stomach is hungry—
Still he finds this old poem of snowflakes
Appealing, drawing him closer to death;
Not a real death, but a death of all sound.
He finds comfort in this silence, this death.
Loneliness can be good if silence speaks
Of gentle white flakes dancing from the sky,
Reaching a young mind with words on a page,
A page as white as snow, silent as death.
In October 2006, Popcorn Press published Patrick's
first book-length collection of poems, Father’s