Verbum Fugit

I remember rhythmic case,
time-set by the periodic tap
of Father’s ruler,
brushing away chalk and dust
from Wheelock’s
cracking spine: light shed

on that heft,
Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum,
clean with principle,
robust and hearty,
pounding into
thicker wood.

Somnium Scipionis,
Cicero’s cosmic
symphony dancing
on the chords. Beauty in
the broken. When the dirt
was gone, only

pulsing awe
remained. A secret
warmth. I remember how
you made me feel,
but your face fades
into the annals
of navy blazer white space.

Turner Wibbelsman is a rising senior and poetry honors thesis candidate at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. In addition to his poetry courses, he is a biology major hoping to one day attend medical school. Originally from Rumson, New Jersey, he enjoys fly fishing and rock climbing in his free time.

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