It is true enough that this is a baseball focused
blog, but at times it is good to step away from the game for a look at the bigger
reality. As a “child of the 60s” I was of a generation coming into adulthood during
a time when we hoped to have the power
to make the painful events of that era merely painful memories…mistakes not to be
repeated.
Alas, I suspect there is no such power.
I wrote the poem that follows in 1994 as a reflection
on those times, those mistakes, and the regret of the lack of power to change
it. The photos are my ID cards from what seemed to be conflicting roles of that
era – student and soldier.
The poem is archived in the May 4th
Memorial Collection at Kent State University.
Memorials
I walked across the peaceful lawn
In Washington, D.C.,
To the monument for the fallen
And touched the names of those who died—
In Washington, D.C.,
To the monument for the fallen
And touched the names of those who died—
Victims of war,
And the names touched me back.
I walked across the peaceful lawn
In Kent, Ohio,
To the monument for the fallen
And touched the names of those who died—
To the monument for the fallen
And touched the names of those who died—
Victims of war,
And the names touched me back.
Fifty-eight thousand entries carved in the black
granite ledger.
Page after cold dark page, the roll of warriors
sacrificed,
Cold to my touch — dark, dead.
Which one took my place?
Four entries carved in the black granite ledger.
Four cold dark
pages, the roll of children sacrificed,
Cold to my touch — dark, dead.
Which one took my place?
Herm Card, May 4, 1994
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete