Reflection On My 70th
Birthday.
“Mothers, Prepare to Receive Your
Babies” new each morning.
came the call from the loud
speakers blaring out their warning
the
day after my mother waddled off the train to go in hospital
through
20's Midwestern cold; snow on ground was but a little,
my
father holding on to her, loving each other in new situation
as
Nana cares for the one year old, prepares for coming invasion.
My parents married during the war, each
no longer feared losing
but looking forward to gaining. He no
longer worked destroying,
now back from the war in a school learning
of building bridges
and how to plan roads being able to
climb over mountain ridges
at the same time learning of peace
and being husband and father.
It was almost Christmas, the second
he’d spent with my mother
in the five years they had been
married, building for one more
child to follow and live dreams of peace
perhaps for evermore.
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