Wood Worm Farms
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Will, I was walking in Tennesse Valley. Meditating on the beach. A refgue from the constant in put from news, friends and my dear mother ..and then the roar over and again. At first I couldn't figure out what it was, then I saw one, and realized, and thought what if I was an innocent, on the ground scrambling for cover with no where to go. What if my children had no where to hide and we would soon be blood and carnage, and no one would take responsibility for us.How can they think this is entertainment? Thank you for the poem, and the heart.Ruth
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Maminatu
THanks, Will, for your loving ptepsecrive. I suppose we always do get caught up in the remarkable skill of these fliers, and rarely think how their skills are used.Your comments your lovely poem harmonize beautifully with Obama's Peace Prize, and the opportunity we all now have to look at the world differently.XXXBeth