the day we will win
On our victory day, we still stand behind the open doors of my old Ford.
There will be a breeze that makes the dancing trees sway like old royalty waltzing to a minuet. It’ll lap over our faces and tussle our hair back. The air on that day will smell clean and warm and of dry grass.
The sun will still set in the west though everything’s changed. That ancient celestial orange will set the evening sky on fire. The purples, the reds and the yellows will be smeared like pastels and the clouds will reflect it all like dull mirrors. We’ll be able to see the moon, and the stars and all of it in all of its majesty.
Down below the muddy Ohio will wink at us with the reflections of the sun scattered across it like a shattered prism as it wanders along its meandering path.
And you and I will look down from the top of the hill, and see what we’ve wrought.
And then, we will live.
Oh Pat, I always enjoy reading what you’ve written but I like this one rather a lot more …. something homey and warm about it that reminds me of times now gone. Perhaps next year I’ll actually be able to make it back for such a victorious day.
Crys
July 2, 2009 at 2:25 am