a house ponders
A House Ponders "Death be not proud." The formality of it, the style of bullets dancing in Ballroom A to warm a winter afternoon. Goodness disappears. They told us this is the way a world turns, told us to define "acrimonious." Young and eager to learn, we did. We were loyal citizens. They told us that a random day might be cerulean or grass green or beet purple. We denied our ears and put faith in our eyes. On what summer door are sixty-five fragile retirements posted? When we come in old age to knowledge, we trust ourselves more to believe less of what the turning world creates. Jerry W. Ward, Jr. November 18, 2021