It is a little disconcerting, having your peaceful hour of reading broken by a quartet of warplanes. There must be an airshow, but they keep circling overhead and I am glad to be able to assume that their intentions are friendly...
Here's a sarcastic ditty:
Other worlds, other wisdom,
Other wiles's woes,
False justice from another time--
Is that the way it goes?
A giddy cry for blood, let bones
Be broken, every one!
It's not enough to see it through,
It must be overdone.
And a poem written at Doubleshot...my first real visit there since moving back. It was so nice to see familiar faces:
Returning home, or home again at heart,
Remembering long hours and long days,
Of friends well-met, reluctance to depart--
But overall content in deepest ways.
And even ever-altered circumstance
Cannot erase a mind's full memory--
Time's skill at theft confirmed, he has no chance
Of taking off with my biography.
A truth assured, as morning's proof will show,
For I observe a still continuum--
Dust swept, resettled; faces aged but known;
"These things remain"--whatever change has come.
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