Saturday, February 28, 2009

Four Long Days

It was a day in November.
A warm day in November.
They let us out early from school.
The teachers were somber.
Some teachers were crying.
I walked home thinking,
“How could this be?”
“How could this be?”
It’s on the TV.
It’s all that is on TV.


Questions.
Did he do it on his own, or were others involved?
A policeman named Tibbet is dead.
The president is dead.

Lyndon Johnson, right hand raised,

Taking the oath of office on the plane.
A book depository in Dallas.
Three shots fired.
From the sixth floor.
A place called Dealey Plaza.
A grassy knoll, people pointing, people crying.
Lee Harvey Oswald with a swollen eye.
“I’m just a patsy,” he says.
Fair play for Cuba, and living in Russia,
And a sharpshooter in the marines.
It’s on the TV.
It’s all that is on TV.
Was it Castro getting even?
Lee Harvey Oswald over and over again.
The Dallas schoolbook depository.
Three shots fired.
From the sixth floor.
Our president is dead.
His life played over and over on TV.
It’s all that is on TV.
The days move in slow motion.
Is it OK to go out and play?
It’s on TV.
It’s all that is on TV.
Lee Harvey Oswald moved to Russia.
He came back with a Russian wife.
“I didn’t shoot anybody,” he says.
Over and over the newsmen ask the same questions.
Did Oswald act on his own?
Lee Harvey Oswald in the basement of the Dallas jail.
A man leaps forward and a shot is fired.
The policeman in the cowboy hat grimacing.
People shuffling.
People struggling.
Lee Harvey Oswald falling to the ground.
Jack Ruby.
Lee Harvey Oswald is dead.
Jack Ruby’s life played over and over on TV.
It’s all that is on TV.
The newsmen ask the questions over and over again.
Jack Ruby?

No school on Monday.
A funeral on Monday.
President Kennedy’s funeral.
Black and white images on the TV.
The drums beating.
The horses’ hooves on the pavement.
A caisson.



A flag-draped coffin.
The drums beating.
The horses’ hooves on the pavement.
A rider-less horse,
Boots in the stirrups facing the wrong way.
The drums beating.
The horses’ hooves on the pavement.
A little boy saluting.

The drums beating.
A plaza in Dallas.
Three shots fired.
On a warm day in November.

1 comment:

Bob Thomas said...

It was a nice day. We were out on the playground in the sunshine when a teacher came out to tell our teacher. Then we were back in the school. Then we were sent home early. Everyone was in shock.

Parts of use are still in shock and will be for the rest of our lives.