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East-West Moon By Michele Wick Email: m.wick at verizon dot net (above email address formatted to reduce spam) June 21, 2008 The moon is a sliver of shadow and shimmer hung on a black velvet sky. From its zenith it peers o'er a welter of tears for the soldiers whose days have gone by. The mothers they cry for their babies have died and the fathers heave dry as a stone. The brothers lament, while their sisters are spent of the laughter they once called their own... Yellow ribbons wrap trees from the plains to the seas but the oaks whisper lingering doubt. Why did we go? Who else will lay low? And how will we ever get out? As the moon fades to gray, and veils our dismay, it ascends in a far eastern sky. From its zenith it peers o'er a welter of tears for the soldiers whose days have gone by. About the author: I am a psychologist, writer, mother of 2 (a 14 year old rock star and 19 year old future fashionista). I have taught in the psychology department at Smith College for the last five years. We are coming to the show at Tanglewood this Saturday — can't wait! | | | |
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