Where I grew up, on the Virginia Piedmont
we were all WASPS or we were nothing, well
there were the Negroes not that we called
them that, we were not that tolerant
and we had names that were easy
to pronounce, without an excessive clutter
of vowels or consonants, not that we were
prejudiced against those not privileged
to be us, in fact we were rather proud
of our tolerance towards those lesser breeds
we welcomed to our shores, sharing some
of our bounty, and now we have discovered
that we are just another minority, one of many,
and our names, once so distinguished, now sound flat.
Peter Goodwin
Thursday, April 8, 2010
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AN EASTER BOUQUET
ReplyDeleteOF ARRANGED MAGNITUDE
The
gift was set
upon oak boards
round. Life cut short
& long, flowering no more
But
beauty at its
peak shows life in
decline... a paradox nigh
death estranged that first Son-rise.
So
it is for
all souls left
to fade until stars'
light passes and Heaven
Comes
forth to be
what will though
not oft the soon surprise
of E-bouquet hence brought.
Jim E Petersen
Training Through Three States
ReplyDeleteUp at four, rushed cereal
with nothing left to chance.
We’d be there by eight o’clock
because my spouse leads this dance.
We left Wilmington by train
and headed north north-east.
To Gotham, it was once was known
On Apple we would feast.
Except the trees
With their leaves of tender green
And the bogs.
The sky kept right on up with us.
Philly’s scullers were out
But didn’t see the elephants at the Zoo
The cars in the city of brotherly
Were heading in contrary directions.
Trenton graffiti is controlled,
Loops tight and closed
The sprays of color
Within the lines
Newark has the most creative
Backyard dump piles
And the selection of above-ground pools
Parked next to derelict cars
Is breath-taking.
UP’s medical center lives next to a cemetery.
Next to Delaware’s penitentary is the casino.
May Kuriowa