Dear Editor,
These are hard and despairing days.
Theodore Roethke wrote: “In a dark time the eye begins to see…”
There is still so much good. I wrote a poem
Grandchildren At Play
the grandchildren are joyous around me
they laugh play tickle my neck
last night silence lay in wait
except one harsh sound of a night bird
frightening me making me think of death
after all this time after so much life
a thin moon sailing in a black sky
was not beautiful a scudding storm of rain
came soon afterwards shaking my home my heart
generations vanish like the morning dew
but now the grandchildren are joyous around me
they tumble me with bright pillows
Yours faithfully,
Ian McDonald
