Digging up some of my oldies about war. My thoughts and feelings have not changed.
O, Beautiful, January 13, 2007
Does the sand, there, pile up like snow, here Do grains of it rise like sun floating crystals in a fickle breeze Is its heat as unbearable as our winter freeze which makes a trickle stream, thickens the water in the trough I ask you, is the desert there as beautiful as our plains, as beautiful as winter wheat snow covered, before amber waves, as wide-open to life, as willing when we lay down and die
These poems were based on news clippings from the time.
Sela-hammahlekoth (gorge of divisions)
We stand at the sela-hammahlekoth, great gorge of division, and we will not be sacrificed; It will grow wider and deeper, we’ll each back from the precipice, further and further from one another until, finally, we cannot see, reach out to, or remember we loved. My Lord, My Lord: why have we have forsaken each other, our sisters, our brothers?
This morning, over coffee, we argued about the war, All this after the bed and what happened there, When he loved me and said so. Yesterday we worked together Cleaned ovens, sprayed the deck, Installed lights and tore down the bedroom wall. We laughed over a movie and popcorn, Surveyed our lives together and said, This is good. But this morning, over coffee, we argued— We argued about the war and WMD And now I’m here at my computer And he’s off on his own, Fixing the furnace.