One look and there is an intrigue
when we imagine the world beyond
ourselves, our quiet, the silence we feel
when looking out our window
across a country of evening grain,
when the crickets begin in a few weeks
letting us know the harvest will be soon,
summer swimming in the lake is …
We have all of these rituals to be sure
shared with the ones we love, those we
know will be in our hearts forever,
together watching the dangling sky
wondering what why beyond naked eye.
When as a child the picture window
a glance to the east, sunrise in mourning
never really able to get past the sorrow,
a childhood raised questions never answered,
yet there are the decades right now
where tonight sitting looking at the crescent moon
same curiosity remain, in some living room
in ’68 begging why underneath wondrous sky
MLK & RFK and bookend years Anne & Sylvia,*
names I would hear in my childhood, disappeared,
While we all searched – fearful minds
Same as we all were – symbolic visions.
© Scott F Savage 7/2020
* Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath
apersonaljourney - stories of love 