By Sophomore Guest Poet Lilah Nick

   The sophomores read the poetry of Pablo Neruda, including “Ode to My Socks.” Then, the sophomores penned a few odes of their own. Here, Lilah details her complicated relationship with her brown sweater.

         A sweater that looks like it

 belonged to a thin, short, grandpa. 

Passed from stranger to stranger,

To friend to friend. 

I’ll never be sure why you

passed it along to me. 

Did you think it was ugly?

Were the light brown stripes

Too loud for your taste?

Was it better suited for me?

Maybe you didn’t like the 

Strange velvety, chocolate 

 brown fabric. 

My mother says it’s velour. 

I quite like the feel of it. 

Not too thick but not too

thin so I won’t freeze. 

Maybe you didn’t like it 

because of the smell.

When you smelled the sweater 

you could tell it did in fact 

come from a grandpa. 

But all you had to do was wash it. 

Was it the itchy tag? 

The old frayed tag from a

brand that no longer exists. 

It’s not too bad, I don’t mind it. 

Was it too large on your small frame?

You have the same build

as your mother. 

Small, petit, a little bony,

but rather tall for your little size. 

You might have thought

I’d fill it out better. 

I’ll won’t tell you this

but I think it looks better on me.

Maybe it is just an ugly sweater

that belonged to an old man. 

That’s what my mother says 

every time I put it on.

I never wear it now because

I’m afraid she’ll make fun of me. 

But I know I’ll pull on that 

ugly old sweater and 

wear it on the cold nights 

In December. 

I’ll never stop wondering,

why did I get this chocolate sweater?