aabhowell
Reading the paper on the way to the island
…in the morning
When the light drips through the shutters like the dew,
I arise, I face the sunrise,
And do the things my fathers learned to do.
Conrad Aiken
They’re still fighting over there. They’re killing us, we’re killing them, they’re killing each other. Turn the page. The market is up, or maybe it’s down, flip a coin and turn the page. One sports team has beaten another; the winners thank God, the losers thank God too, and everybody turns the page. The weather report confirms what can be seen out the window or exposes the forecaster as a liar. Might as well turn the page. A product is on sale, is being discounted, is improved, is better than that other product. Turn the page. A celebrity has been arrested…has checked into rehab…has made a racist comment…is getting divorced…is getting married…is adopting a child from over there where the fighting is. Turn the page, turn it quickly. A politician has been arrested…has checked into rehab…has made a racist comment…is getting divorced…is getting married…is sending somebody else’s child over there where the fighting is. Turn the page.
This is our quiet moment of relaxation, this is the peaceful pause before the workday begins. So it was for our fathers, so it is for us. And the light drips through the shutters.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
