No. 3

Not my quote – but it’s in essence what I keep saying to anyone I know who still supports No. 3 and tries to defend it. Truly an ugly soul on every front –

“None of the president’s positives can balance the moral and political danger we face under a leader of such grossly immoral character.”

And women like Sara Sanders who last night mocked Joe Biden’s stutter on twitter? I don’t have to be a fan of Joe Biden or a member of his party to know that’s just a really low blow – an ugly flaw in character, just like No. 3’s mocking of handicapped people, pussy grabbing mentality, attacks on 16 year old climate activists with autism, gold star families and dead DECENT politicians and career military who gave their entire lives to service, – and I am so done with anyone who continues to applaud these people and their degrading bullying childish stupid behavior. Reminds me of all the mean kids in school and how some never grow up. These things have nothing to do with politics and everything to do with who we are as a people.

I believe you when you tell me who you are.

 

 🎇 But in this season it is well to reassert that the hope of mankind rests in faith.  As man thinketh, so he is. Nothing much happens unless you believe in it, and believing there is hope for the world is a way to move toward it. 

– Gladys Taber

 

 

Revisiting The Golden Girls

My mother has always had a wide circle of friends, whether it was within her long career as a public school teacher,  as a neighbor  or  a volunteer (Snug Harbor, Staten Island, Democratic Town Committee, to name just a few). Unlike so many friendships of my generation, they  have remained close despite moves, retirements,  etc .  These four in particular are what I’ve always referred to as The Golden Girls.  They  have a  comfortable friendship that spans decades, still going strong.  They’ve each known personal trials,  moves to different cities, illnesses,  and in one case the worst form of grief.  None of these things has frayed the ties that bind these women, and I’m grateful to bare witness to it all.   Below is a piece my mother wrote this fall after one of their trips together.

** Mom’s version is spaced properly. For whatever the reason, my tech incompetence, perhaps? I haven’t been able to fix the spacing.. my apologies. 

 

✨ Autumn’s Golden Girls✨

   I am picked up at Metro Park by my friend with a sandwich in her hand

for the drive to Cape May

Never at a loss for words the chatter begins there and continues in Dawn’s driveway

Hugs all round and cookies from Staten Island’s Cookie Jar

Soup, talk, and cookies from the Cookie Jar

Gracious Thomas grinds coffee beans for tomorrow’s breakfast

Chattered out, sleep beckons

Plans for the next day revolve around cloudy skies and the threat of rain

A visit to Stone Harbor with the movie “Downton Abbey” in mind

And shopping, of course, clothes today

Autumn colored blouse for Roseann and tailored coat for Dawn

Necklace thrown in there somewhere

Diane and I literally sit this one out in the store’s comfortable sitting area

(Probably meant for bored husbands)

Walk through the boutique hotel The Reeds at Shelter Haven

Menu there for Thanksgiving Dinner

Not bad price, Dawn

Movie theater for snacks—nice set up

And then a reunion with Lord Grantham and other old friends

Whether upstairs or down, Mr. Carson greets us still as Violet raises her brow at the intrusion of the hoi polloi

Dining out at Ebbitts after drinks by their fire

Good food, good drinks, more good chatter

And home to those wonderful cookies

Ball game on, Tommy keeps us posted as we catch up on pretty much everything

families, the state of the younger generations,

old friends, new homes and a LAP POOL , trips enjoyed and those planned

It’s pretty much all good

And now everyone of us is in our seventies (at least until next May)

Where did all the decades go?

The lesson there: Seize the day, every damn day!

So we seize a  shopping day, you knew that was coming

For the first time I spend the most, in a Christmas shop no less!

 Even need to mail stuff home.

It is the proximity of Rosie egging me on I think.

So yeah, Rosie’s fault.

Lunch at Congress Hall

and more shopping

How do you spend $37 on Birthday cards in five minutes?

Easy at the Whale’s Tale

Diane and Dawn are the most restrained shoppers this go round

 Dinner of sandwiches and left overs and cookies

Earlier to bed for tomorrow’s trip home

Breakfast and chatter

Pack up and head out

Train is not missed, Diane is home before it leaves station

Another visit of friends, a little creakier and grayer

But just as happy to share time together, a glass of wine together,

A walk through an iconic town center together

The Cape May of a golden October afternoon

A few thoughts found  and cherished about friends and friendships

“Life is partly what we make it,

and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.”

      Tennessee Williams

“Friendships multiply joys and divide griefs”

“Friendship can’t be a big thing. It’s a million little things.”

Til next time, my friends. While we get grayer the friendships remain golden. And that’s a fact.

More Light

I am so sick and tired of being so sick and tired of the current asshat in chief of this dear ole US of A,  not to mention his spineless enablers, I’ve decided to just let that whole mess go for at least a little while.  I’m not looking at the news .. much… I’m not reading someone’s spin or fretting over ignorance because really what good comes of it… answer  – zilch.    I need to breathe clean air, think clean thoughts, see inspiration and act on that.  I need to believe most of us are made up of more good than bad.

So what is helping me accomplish this necessary avoidance?  Extending kindnesses where a little light needs shining.  (if only it would help me stop the holiday EATING… so far, no luck there. Onward….. )

The local veterinarian put out a plea for blankets and cat beds for the foster dogs/cats in their care, and we have an Ocean State Job Lot not far from here where those things are available pretty cheap.  For $50 I was able to bring them a nice armload of blankets/beds and that simple act just felt good.   Some light.

Recently a local family lost their matriarch, Carol Anne,  a joyful woman who has known more heartache than should ever befall  one person and yet she always found a reason to be happy.  She would say to friends when they asked how she could remain so upbeat -” I have two choices, I can be miserable for the rest of my life, or I can choose Joy.  I’m choosing Joy. ”  Her home was always decorated to the hilt for Christmas, there were lights and pine garland even in the rafters of the family log cabin.   When she passed a month ago, she  left two daughters who are afflicted with a similar illness and are  missing her terribly.  Her favorite color was purple, and as I thought of how difficult this holiday must be for the two girls, an idea arose.  Why not put together a Christmas package for each of the girls containing purple things – a nod to their joyful mother in this, their first Christmas without her.  Purple no-slip socks, a purple cardinal ornament for their trees, (she loved birds) purple nail polish, purple candy coated chocolates, lavender soap.   It didn’t take a lot of effort or a lot of money to do this, and to drop it off at their home, give a hug and reminder that their sorrow is not forgotten, their mother is not forgotten.  And once again, it felt good, my soul lifted.  More light.

As I left their house I stopped in just down the hill  to visit 90 year old Marge .  This lady has always known how to make the best of any situation, ever the optimist.  She has many friends and family who love her, and she is still living on her own, taking care of a rescue dog I found for she and her now- deceased husband about five years ago.   That dog takes such good care of her, and she him.   She still cooks for herself and for company on occasion,  rarely if ever complaining about the many aches and pains that come with reaching that monumental milestone of a birthday. She’s seen a lot of good times, and some really hard times, watched this world turn upside down more than once.   She is concerned for the changes, but she also has faith that things will work themselves  out in the end.   90 years of observation  have proven it.  She is another who is always looking at the bright side.  While I thought I was doing something good for her on this visit, turns out she was the one gifting me.   More light, still.

If you are weary as you read this, for any of the multitude of reasons this life can provide, I’m wishing you peace in your heart and more light in your life – I promise any light you can shine on another in whatever the ways that are possible for you will reflect back onto you tenfold.

Till soon, friends –

 

 

 

Who is America?

 

What we now refer to as America started with the arrival of Indigenous people of  Siberian origin before 15,000 BC. Many cultures formed and disappeared, and then what we all know of Christopher Columbus’s arrival in 1492 was the beginning of the colonies.

Some data I obtained from several sites on the subject:

**From the time Europeans arrived on American shores, the frontier—the edge territory between white man’s civilization and the untamed natural world—became a shared space of vast, clashing differences that led the U.S. government to authorize over 1,500 wars, attacks and raids on Indians, the most of any country in the world against its indigenous people. By the close of the Indian Wars in the late 19th century, fewer than 238,000 indigenous people remained, a sharp decline from the estimated 5 million to 15 million living in North America when Columbus arrived in 1492.

Even more fundamentally, indigenous people were just too different: Their skin was dark. Their languages were foreign. And their world views and spiritual beliefs were beyond most white men’s comprehension. To settlers , all this stoked racial hatred and paranoia, making it easy to paint indigenous peoples as pagan savages who must be killed in the name of civilization and Christianity.**

   We’ve all heard this cautionary tale –  those who do not heed the lessons of history are condemned to repeat it.   Never has that been more clear to me than as I witness  President No. 45  and the minions who applaud his reckless behaviors, his hateful rhetoric designed to divide, his trampling laws to suit his agendas, his total disregard for truths in small and very big ways. Most horrifyingly to me…. are all the supporters who are willing to give him a pass because in some way he speaks to their fears, their own prejudices, their hates, their needs  and he gives them a free pass for  any behavior associated with it.  I doubt any Tr&mp supporters read my posts any longer, but if you are reading this and you will vote for him again, I absolutely believe that the only reason you can abide this man in office is because you harbor within yourself some of the prejudice, hate, or greed this man projects daily and you want action and permission, validation for those things.   It means nothing that you are “religious”, the hypocrisies there have been too many.  I no longer care who this offends – I am assaulted daily with the damage he’s doing to this Country’s integrity, this Country’s soul.

And that brings me back to my post title.  Who is America?  I used to believe, with every fiber of my being…. that  in this day and age we were for the most part  a generous, intelligent, enlightened lot despite a not so perfect government.. although one must acknowledge here we are damned lucky to have lived in a Democracy with the freedoms we have clearly taken for granted.   Did we fail the ultimate test with these freedoms?  Have we fallen too far down the rabbit hole to redeem ourselves now that social media and news outlets and the President himself give us full power with a few clicks on our keyboard or speeches or articles to weave a tale that suits our agenda, to unleash those concealed (not buried, not destroyed, not diluted)  racist bents some of us still hold close to the vest?    And all this newfound bold display of untruth and hate is then devoured by those who favor it’s content.   Let others be damned who are different or may be in need or have rights of their own, US FIRST.    Well… that’s how it all started here in America.  Are we to repeat the mistakes of the past?

What does America’s soul look like today?  It surely isn’t charitable, kind, or respectful under this administration.  Prosperous?  I don’t know – would you consider opening the flood gates once again to polluting our waters, destroying our remaining pristine forests, walking back air pollution regulations, electing a man who lies to all daily, spews rhetoric designed to divide the nation, paints immigrants as the enemy, of which we are ALL if you want to be honest,…. are these qualities of a  prosperous, healthy  nation?  What price is too much to pay for perceived monetary gains?  Where’s the line?  is there one? …..

It feels like we have sold our soul.   And you know …. I don’t like what that implies specifically.. the collective “WE” in this narrative.  Because not all of us has fallen for this nonsense.  Not all of us is OK with this erosion of our values, or morals as a country.  I and the many who feel as I do are not to blame for the ugly, corrupt, narcissistic picture that is currently being sold as “America”. Will not carry that baggage as if it is my badge to wear. I will resist.

Our country has always been a melting pot, a seaming together of many cultures, many religions, many nationalities, a picture taken with a wide economic lens.  We’ve overcome many hard things to become a strong nation, one I hope will find it’s way once again among our people, within our government, and as a participating cooperative enlightened member of the worldwide community, a beacon in preservation and respect for life and the health of our planet, in the natural world and the spiritual.   It sure as hell isn’t what we are right now, but we’ve proven before we are  capable of change, and I hope enough of us can right this ship before it’s too late.

 

 

Morning Commute

After 31 years of the same old grind, I still love my morning commute. Although this is our fourth small farm in those 31  years, this one in particular, of which we hope and plan to retire on,  is the most extensively “farmed”  –  we hay our fields, raise chickens for eggs, my horses adorn the fields as lawn ornaments for the most part but they do get use, sparingly. (those spoiled, spoiled horses).

We used to have a huge vegetable garden, but with enough produce yield to feed a lost continent full of folk and a weed war we could not possibly win, we downsized eventually to a two-raised bed configuration 1/8th the size of the original, now located  in our back yard.  We also have a small young apple orchard with peach and plum trees, blueberry and raspberry bushes,  and a Christmas Tree lot in a back field. (haha..hahahaha…   I’ll ‘splain later in the post). 

So.. my morning starts with breakfast for the two of us around 5:30 a.m. for no good reason at all other than that’s when the Mr. and I religiously wake up. And we aren’t religious.  We’re just *UP*.    The dogs are let out to do their business and then fed.  If it’s chilly, like this morning, I put on my outer layer of barn attire and Miss Sally waits by the door because she knows the routine and she loves OUT.  And OUT with MOM is the stuff dreams are made of.

We head out into the frost coated everything to begin the rounds.  Sally stays within the dog fenced area, but it allows her to follow me up the driveway to the barn area where she waits around while I feed and muck.

Side note: (I’m a little ADD, I’m pretty sure of it ) Peering over to the left in the backyard, my daughter’s home is in sight.  We are absolutely loving our new neighbors 💖.  Her new family member, adopted adorable Gizmo has blended very well with their dog Rex, and all is well in their new little kingdom in the field across the way.

Back on track we go –   morning commute… The chicken coop comes first – I let the girls out into their coop yard and refresh the water and feeders, rake the chicken yard, and once a week the whole coop gets an overhaul of fresh shavings, swept out cobwebs, new hay in laying boxes, etc.   This year’s babies have already been laying for months and they’re beautiful!  The two shown here are Light Brahmas. They have feathers on their feet!    They  are part of my GOT flock. Winter and Ghost , with Arya on the right.  Cersei died early on of a deformed beak ( if only that had happened in the series! ) Sansa and  Daenerys are doing well.

Once the girls are all set for the day, I head up to the barn to feed and water the horses and turn them out for the day.

The two old boys.. Max1 and Max2.. are let out into the fields after they’ve finished their morning grain.  They’ve just started wearing their fall sheets to keep the chill off on these 30 something degree mornings.  Older horses have trouble keeping good weight on due to teeth that are ground down with time, so we give them a little help with special grains for seniors and blankets for added warmth.

The mini horses are little cherubs, chubby little cherubs.  Their weight needs to be kept reasonable and so they are not allowed on the big grassy fields with the larger horses as they’d eat themselves to oblivion. So we keep them in a smaller dirt paddock and give them the appropriate amount of  grain and hay for their size.

Once feed is done, I usually muck stalls.  On Sundays our boarder does stalls to give me a reprieve, so this morning I walked about the fields and took a few pictures instead.

Our little orchard on the hill behind the house.  The apple trees on the left are a few years old and have produced very little so far.  It takes a few years for trees to establish themselves, and we’re still learning about proper pruning and fertilization – must be enough, but not too much.   The blueberry and raspberry bushes will get a netting cover once berries appear, lest the birds and squirrels get them all.    Yep, That did happen, lesson learned.

In the field behind the horse barn is a tree lot … where for three years, we’ve planted 100 Christmas trees.   The first year we had a wicked winter and the wind chill was awful, killing most of the trees.   *ah, crap.  We replaced them with slightly bigger ones the second year… of which we lost more than half to a grub infestation. *crap again. And why does it seem so many have just planted a ton of trees and lo and behold, a tree farm was born – like, super easy.   I mean it was such the infestation that when you walked among the saplings the ground crinkled and crunched for all the grubs squirming around just below the surface.   BLEH.

We’ve planted the new little baby Christmas trees in this third year of tree farming, with a fence around lest the deer eat them up,  ( can you imagine?) the ground is  treated for grubs and we’ll cross our fingers for a not-so-terribly-cold  windy winter, shall we?

With the walk about done and checking for downed fence rails,  I walk back down to the house where Miss Sally  has joined me along the fence line and up onto the porch where she waits to be let in while I shuck off my muck boots.  We then get on with our day.

It’s a dirty business sometimes, this job of mine,  and never is it glamorous – but I wouldn’t trade it for the world and then some.

Another Side note: Have you been a Downton Abbey fan?  I hadn’t paid any attention to it for all these years, how did I miss such a gem? – just got hooked on Amazon and within three weeks I’m almost done with the six seasons, looking forward to the movie!  I love it!  Fantastic actors too –   What a different world.  Living not far from Newport, I’ve toured some of the old “cottages” and saw first hand their elaborate lives preserved for all to explore.  These are not the estates of Europe, of course, but the summer colonies for some of the wealthy elite Americans of the late 1800’s early 1900’s.

Till soon, friends –

 

 

 

Welcome Gizmo!

For years I’ve been a volunteer at shelter dog adoption events here in Connecticut, and was a founding member of  Homeward Bound CT.  Due to my hearing loss I stepped down from the Board eventually, as it became increasingly difficult to hear conversation at meetings, etc. I no longer work the events as a conduit between the adopters and the dogs on three day stretches for the same reason.  I didn’t want this damned hearing loss to squelch my shelter dog assistance efforts, however, so I contribute in other ways that don’t require conversations in the crowded busy  barky affair that is an adoption event. I bring food for the many volunteers, photograph and advocate for the dogs coming to the event, and donate money to the rescues to help them accomplish their monumental tasks.

Two of my three current dogs are rescues, and my daughter also has an adopted pooch, Rex. Well.. she did, but now she has two.  K and D adopted Gizmo this weekend at Homeward Bound CT’s latest event, and I can honestly tell you I have not ever seen a more grateful dog.  Gizmo just absolutely loves everyone. As soon as he locks eyes with you, if you don’t melt, you don’t have a heart in your chest cavity, I’m telling ya.  He was picked up by an ACO as a stray in Georgia, where he landed at a kill shelter – and was quickly pulled by a rescue friend of ours, who vetted him, fostered him, and brought him up here to Connecticut with her other saves.  A more loving, cuddly dog does not exist.  We don’t know what his circumstances were that landed him in a kill shelter, but he’s out of those woods now.

Welcome to our family,  Gizmo!

We took her boyz for a walk around the property yesterday to help Gizmo learn what home is to him now.

This picture shows the relationship between our two homes – It’s  so awesome to have our girl and her little family right nextdoor.  This old farm  has truly become our family’s haven and I can’t begin to express appropriately how grateful I am.

I remember vividly passing this place on our way to visit my aunt many years ago. As a young girl I would glance at the overgrown fields behind the viney overgrown roadside and the ancient peeling sinking  house…. and dream a little dream of living in the country on a place such as this.  Never would I have guessed I’d call it home someday.  It all started with a desire to live in the country with horses and dogs, and a big leap of faith to make a bold move when I was 19.  The support of family and the love of a good man was the glue that kept the dream together.

Both in Vermont and here in CT, the fall foliage has been oustanding.   What is fall looking like in your neck’o the woods?

 Till soon, friends…

A Palate cleanser

After the last post I feel I need to sprinkle some happy up here in this space.    Let us not allow the *crazy* to infect every corner of our world, because truly there’s so much to appreciate and good works we can do and fun and adventure to be had,  regardless.  I find a lot of solace in the every day, in the routines, the natural beauty outside these old doors, my animals up on the hill, the family that gathers round the table and the dogs curled up under my desk.

Here on the farm the leaves are turning and beginning to blanket the stone walls and pathways.  My gardens are depleted, but there is still much color and many blooms and berries…

Zinnia still reaching for the sky…

The Dahlias – easy to grow and just so stunning….  I do need to pull the bulbs out of the ground once the frost hits if I want to use them again next year.   And I might not, because sometimes I’m lazy that way.

My New Dawn roses have made a second appearance, just a few on a very lengthy vine along the dog yard fence.

I forget the name of these hydrangea trees, their blooms are prolific this year!  My mom has been here several times collecting bunches for friends, they are great for drying.

Beautyberry – a more vivid  purple berry you have never seen.

More Dahlia….

And although the daisies were done over a month ago, because of the warm weather, a few have shot up again.

  Inside the house I’ve brought in fall – one of my favorite seasons to decorate.  Pumpkins everywhere! and..    I bring bittersweet vine in from the fields  and drape them along the fireplace mantels.  There are pumpkins on the front door steps and over the door itself on the “shelf”, too.

I’ve been holding on to a painting by  my late great grandfather in 1949 for some time now.  His writing is on the back, so it was easy to discover what this painting was of – The covered bridge in Arlington, Vermont just in front of  Normal Rockwell’s beloved home on the green.   Above as it appears in our dining room,  Below is a picture of the area now, and his painting up close.  I recently had it matted, framed and glass covered for protection as it was in rough shape –  it’s hard to get a photo of it without glare. The white house in the very background was his home.

Current….

And as my great grandfather saw it in 1949…

I hope to get up there in the near future to stand at this spot myself, with a nod to my deceased ancestor who did the very same.  He and I have a similar painting style – not too detailed but the end result is pleasing to the eye, if not very professional or precise.   Right now I’m reading Normal Rockwell’s autobiography and I look forward to the inevitable mention of his beloved home in Arlington.

11/28/1939-ORIGINAL CAPTION READS: Norman Rockwell, artist. Photo shows Rockwell painting with smoking pipe in his mouth.

Hopefully Getty Images folks own’t mind that I used their image.

I’ll leave you with a link to some scrumptious fall recipes from a favorite blogger of mine, Jane of Blondie’s Journal.   Visit her post HERE.  I’ve got the beef stew on my stove as I type this, and the other recipes will get a chance here at this old house as well.  The stew is delish! Perfect for a cool fall evening.

Till soon, friends –

 

The Lights are on and Everyone’s HOME

When we bought this run down old farm, our goal was to restore it and create a family gathering place for many years to come. With our kids now grown and making their way in the world, tonight I see the bonfire up on the hill with the boy and his cousin and long time friends gathered round the fire once again as they have since their high school days, all college graduates and professionals living near and far. Next door, I see the lights on for the first time, my daughter and her boyfriend’s first night in their new home. I have a husband with vision and tenacity who saw this all through, and I’m grateful for every second of it. ♥

A little tour of the new home…

 

Wishing my daughter and her partner in life many happy years here!

While the new home owners were unpacking, the Mr. and I went down to Stella by the Sea to sit on her now vacant deck once again and enjoy the early fall breezes.   (more like… he enjoyed the breezes and took a nap while I did laundry, picked tomatoes, dusted, vacuumed and  packed away bedding  for the coming winter months.)

I did manage to stick my feet in the water and absorb a little more  Vitamin Sea.

The last of the seaside garden tomatoes… those four plants yielding more fruit than my 10 or so here on the farm – go figure.

I’m too exhausted by all the noise coming out of Washington to dive into it much here…  – Bonfire of the Vanities –  sums it up, new meaning of course.

Apple Slab Pie with Maple Icing – link HERE. 

Till soon –

 

Goodbyes and hellos

 

We laid to rest our dear Dane, Ben.   At 10.5 years of age, (ancient for a Dane) his hind end gave out.  We are lucky to have a very good vet who came to the farm so that there would be no added stress to poor Ben, and he had a peaceful passing.   We miss the big guy, he was a horse in the house and there’s a big hole in our hearts and hearth where he once took up space.  I don’t know that we’ll bring home another giant dog, they don’t live long enough and their decline is so heartbreaking to watch, although that’s true of any living thing.

New England has experienced many  perfect weather days in recent weeks. Fall is unfurling slowly into the morning and evening light, the leaves beginning to change color.  Some Autumns are a dud as far as foliage color depending on weather conditions, and some are just glorious.  We’ve had many Monarch butterflies in the hay fields and in  our Zinnia patch!

We will soon tuck our Stella by the Sea away, as her 2019 season has come to an end.  Closing up a summer cottage is a reluctant good bye, thankfully just a temporary one.

In this glorious month of September, my sister’s youngest son was married on their farm.  The bride and groom were so clearly happy and in love, and the wedding was a fun event – with fall decor and comfort foods and a great DJ who got the crowd dancing, rocking the house all night.  The wedding cake wasn’t a cake at all – it was DONUTS!… a nod, no doubt, to the groom’s profession – a police officer.  Wishing Brian and Kate many many happy years.

My kids, my niece and my other kids……

Mom and sister, Sue

I think my most favorite picture of my mom, ever… in my sister’s Sunflower patch on that day…

On the better health front, I’ve lost 10 lbs of my 25 lb weight loss goal so far, and the rest ain’t gonna come off easy.  Menopause sucks in some ways, this is one of them.  A nutritionist has helped me sort out why I overeat and how I can make changes that are doable for the rest of my life, to keep the weight off.  I’m still tweeking, because Lord I Love To Eat.  And Cook, And Bake.  But… slow and steady wins the race.   This below is a good mantra to keep in your arsenal for making positive change in your life.

In closing,  I’ll give you a sneak peak of our daughter’s new home, right next door to this old house on the farm.  By September 30th, they’ll be in!

Till soon, friends…

 

 

Nine Eleven : Then and Now

 

Written by my mother, Kathleen Amoia  ❤️

Nine Eleven: Then and Now

There we were

Under blue skies
White clouds, clear air,
Surrounded by star sparkled water,
A people and place
Renewed by autumn’s grace.

And there they stood,
Magnificent in their arrogance;
Reaching above their sisters,
Symbols of commerce
And a nation’s invincibility.

And then they came
In their silver bullets,
Crazed martyrs for a regressive world order.
And they plowed into that magnificent arrogance
And brought it down.

Others came
In uniforms, rescue trucks.
On or off duty, there!
Rushing in to save, to put out fires,
Manage the unimaginable.
And they too were brought down.

Then we came,
Grieving and betrayed,
Yet rising to the occasion;
Doing and giving,
Kinder, if not wiser.
Answering the mournful wail of bagpipes,
We bore witness
On endless funeral lines.
And became a better people.

For a while.

Two Weeks Later
This ferry ride was unlike hundreds I’d taken.
Sorrow sat on every bench.
Silence screamed its presence.
No commuters here,
We had all come to bear witness

Zombie-like we left the terminal.
Still no voices, yet an unfamiliar noise
Assaulted our ears:
Huge generators plugged into the
Heart of commerce.
The smell was of wet cement,
The sight, army tents in Battery Park.

Four deep, we walked the washed sidewalks
Toward the epicenter,
Passed windows coated in the
Grey sands of death:
Passed smiling photos of the missing, presumed dead.
In a dust filled shop two Pakistanis (perhaps)
Watched over ruined merchandise,
Their faces masks of despair.

Putting one foot in front of another, we advanced,
Gently prodded by grieving cops.
And then it was there,
An eerie skeleton,
Diminished, off balance, smoking still,
Twisted steel a stand-in for twisted minds.

We heard trucks removing what had been and
No longer was;
Saw ambulances awaiting those
Who would never need them.
Our only comfort
The commonality we saw in each others’ eyes.

Will it be enough ?

Five Years Later

Here we are today:
Awash in opportunities lost
Cynically divided
Called unpatriotic supporters of terrorism
Should we point out the obvious
Led by shallow ideologues and a
Constipated Congress that lacks both spine and statesmanship.

We have allowed:
Form to triumph over substance
Lobbyists to write our laws
Simplistic slogans to influence when
Critical thought was needed
Science to be denigrated
Fundamentalism to hold sway
Fear mongering to win.

The question has become:
Do we have the wisdom or the will
To work for the broader public good
(Assuming we still know what that means)
Take honest stock of the effects
Of capitalism as Holy Grail
Plan a future worthy of the legacy
Of our founders
Participate in our democracy
As the responsibility it is
Call to the fore, by a renewed sense of purpose,
Leaders and statesmen worthy of the titles
Rediscover our commonality
And again, become a better people?