four flowers - 1April is poetry month.  I thought of this poem I wrote years ago, for Andrew’s last high school chorus concert.  (The school colors were green and yellow).





A Sonnet for Seniors Singing

for the U-High class of 2002


In green and yellow music time you hear—

if you’re a parent—childhood float away

with every lyric note. Its echoes lift

a wish for more: more madrigals, more jazz,

more Bach, more Billy Joel, more freshman year

when they began, and you were younger, too.

Composers know their songs belong to time,

and so do singers, fathers’ fondest scores.


One person cannot make a chord. One chord

will make an empty song. One song is not

a concert or a life, which needs the whole

of harmony: a choir. So, seniors, sing

the past into the now, all notes, all times,

all time to come, all hope, all dreams, all love.


–Doug Hesse