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Howling Winds
By Eric L. Wattree Sr. (Columnist)
Published November 13, 2008

As I watched my son,

dapper as they come, walk down

Our walkway and into manhood,

what I remember most is

The rushing wind. I'd seen

such winds before, but

Never like this–my old foe

was pulling up trees by

The roots.

 

So I watched, but I watched alone.

As the winds raged on

and the mighty palms bowed, a

Single leaf from our Winter bare

Ficus Tree

Held tough against the ferocious storm;

It fought

Valiantly against the angry gale, as though hanging

On just to witness

the changing of the guard.

 

So I stood, but I stood alone.

Like that solitary leaf,

all my life I've fought the

Ferocious winds,

and now they've returned, this

Mighty foe, poised to seize

the hopes and dreams of

My only son.

 

So I cringed, but I cringed alone.

But then, posterity glanced back

and squared its

Shoulders, beat back hopelessness

as it trudged

Through fields of ivy,

then spread its wings and rode

Those howling winds over yonder mountaintop…

So I wept, but I wept with a crowd.

 

God Bless America.

 

Eric L. Wattree, Sr. can be reached at wattree@verizon.net

 

 

Categories: Beneath the Spin


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