Monday, April 16, 2007

I've had a difficult week or two, (difficult because of work stress and a sense of low energy and overwhelm) I've not been able to get my fiction piece (the Charles chapter in the porch fiction) up on the computer, in any kind of shape. Now this morning there were murders at Virginia Tech (a rampage, massacre, carnage, like Whitman on the Tower back in 1966 except this time the victims were trapped in classrooms and halls rather than picked off from above.) Virginia Tech, is in Blacksburg, in the pretty little college town of Blacksgurg - hilly, green, wholesome seeming, - today snow scattered. Bob's extended family lives in that town, and chose it partly for the feel of the town.. The family is safe. My sister in law headed to campus when she learned of the shootings. The campus is part of the extended family's everyday landscape.

Ruth wrote in her blog about feeling less shocked by the violence than by kindess between humans - that she was more surprised by the heroism on 9/11 that by the violence. I initially responded that it was different for me, that I usually expect humans to behave well, take goodness for granted. But when I started to try poetry on the campus shooting my mood was darker. Odd.

Shocking

Shocking that April snow
surprises me more than
carnage on campus.
sidewalks running blood
should shock more than
families opening homes
to displaced students.
Humans killing humans
Humans helping humans.
I take both for granted.
Horror and heroism,
Violence and kindness.
I accept both. Shocking.



My Daughters

My daughters will die
don't know when why.
I must expect, accept
their deaths or drown
in maternal insanity
No wise decision,
No locked door
No healthy lifestyle
nor medical test
can protect. them.
I accept they will die.

1 comment:

Ruth said...

I appreciate your comments here and on my blog about your reaction and how it differs from mine--I think I do generally expect people to behave well... I'm suprised by how moved I am by tales of heroism but I am. The Shoah survivor story gets me here in the same way (thank you for bringing it to my attention).

It's funny: I somehow never thought about visualizing Joanna and I in this situation--that you might be moved to consider our deaths (odd since I did spend time contemplating your nearness to the tower shootings).

Thank you both for loving us (and wanting us to live) and for accepting that someday we will. You walk a beautiful line between smoothering us and leaving us too much alone. Thank you for being my mama.