Credo in unum Deum.
In four score and fifteen years
No bomb has ever fallen on me.
I’ve fired no gun, marched in no army
To mock hell’s fears,
Betrayed by the lies of history,
Murders, and pointless deaths of brothers.
Yet I read bombs fall on others,
Whose sons misfortune goads,
Turning bombers in their turn
In distant lands improbable
That forgive the unforgivable,
Where homes and cities burn,
Babies lose their mothers,
And pet dogs, puzzled, roam the ravaged roads.
It’s all hearsay! What if it’s simply not true?
But what if it is? Propped up by pillows,
I lie in bed and stew,
Sipping a mug of early morning tea—
My chosen breakfast waits below for me.
So, very likely, is it with you, too.
And thus, I fear, the hapless morning goes.
Sunday, December 8, 2024
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