 Jeff––Saturday
The wreckage depicted in the photo above is the result of a seven-year-old at work on her toys. It’s innocent child play, but it brought a smile to my face, and a bit of calm to the real anxiety we’re all sharing these days.
It led me to search around for something to write about that appropriately conveyed my thoughts on enduring the double whammy of post-election madness and genocidal Covid-19 behaviors. I fell upon this parody I’d written seven years ago based on Robert Frost’s iconic poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”
It struck me as an on the nose description of how I feel these days. Now to see how many others share it.
 Whose words these are I think I know. My mind is on to pillage though; To find something for blogging clear Some thoughts that matter, not for show.
My blogmates all must think it queer To see a poem this time here With so much news of fraud and fake, And daily tales of more to fear.
But now I think it’s time to wake And trust there might be some mistake. To hope somewhere beyond the sweep There will be peace for all God’s sake.
We know what’s out there’s dark and deep. And if we choose we all could weep, But I prefer to pause to reap, The promises men swore to keep.
***** Of all the words Frost did compose. The ones that hit it on the nose, For how to live amid the whirl, Are those his tombstone did unfurl:
“I had a lover’s quarrel with the world.”
Not a bad philosophy for all that’s about us these days.
–Jeff
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