I wasn’t there when she was killed
Far down that curve so steep and blind.
And those who walk by there are chilled
By nothing that their eyes can find.

The hallways in our school were cold
That day before we heard the news,
As if the frigid air foretold
A life that day the world would lose.

How sad that few had known her well,
As special needs had made her shy.
But if the utter truth we tell,
Too few of us did ever try.

What’s left was bleakness and regret,
An empty locker, vacant seat,
And even those she’d never met
Felt something now was incomplete.

My mind can see her skipping fast
Across those hallways all alone.
She’d joined the spirits of the past
Who whisper how we must atone.

Her memory will haunt our hills
Like misty fogbanks creeping in.
I now embrace those morbid chills
That tell me where my heart has been.

(Photo by Eric Hammett)