War Baby
By Pamela Holmes
He has not even seen you, he
Who gave you your mortality;
And you, so small, how can you guess
His courage, or his loveliness?
Yet in my quiet mind I pray
He passed you on the darkling way –
His death, your birth, so much the same –
And holding you, breathed once your name.
--------
November continued to believe it was September, even though we turned the clocks back on Saturday so we had to take a walk by 4:30 so we'd be home while it was still light. It was mid-70s again, crickets chirping among the falling leaves, and though it got kind of sticky indoors in the afternoon, I can't say I'm sorry that we're having such a long, colorful, unseasonably warm autumn. The cats are enjoying watching the birds, too.
My day otherwise involved a lot of pre-travel chores, talking to various friends and my sister, a bit of online shopping, and poutine for dinner since we found cheese curds at the Giant we went to after dinner out yesterday, not our usual food store. We watched some of the Ravens victory over the Saints around some Ghosts and the mid-season finale of Quantum Leap, one of the better episodes. Here's the World War II memorial downtown last weekend:
No comments:
Post a Comment