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Morning, Noon and Night By Thomas Field Email: tknightfield at hotmail dot com (above email address formatted to reduce spam) March 20, 2008 On a sultry afternoon Somewhere between sun and moon While the planet tossed and turned People danced while cities burned Like some ancient howling beast First the slaughter then the feast Stuck in tar pits of the past Trying to make the party last On a black and endless night Somewhere between wrong and right While we stumbled in the dark Hounds of Hell began to bark Like the hunter and the prey Every dog would have his day When the last became the first The best were eaten by the worst On a sad and sallow morn Somewhere between whole and torn While we floated on our raft Came the dreadful morning aft Like the sun arrived too late We surrendered to our fate Nevermore a life sublime Now gone to dust and lost in time About the author: I, Thomas Knight Field am a fifth generation Dallasite. My paternal grandfather Joe Yancy Field attended Stanford at the turn of the century where he played on the football team and was a roommate of Herbert Hoover. After Hoover became president Joe was invited to the White House. I still have the invitation. This poem is about the war in Iraq in particular and the human condition in general.I realize it's bit depressing, but poems just come out that way sometimes. You can't sugarcoat some things | | | |
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