I am so small walking on the beach at night under the widening sky. The wet sand quickens beneath my feet and the waves thunder against the shore. I am moving away from the boardwalk with its colorful streamers of people and the hotels with their blinking lights. The wind sighs for hundreds of miles. I am disappearing so far into the dark I have vanished from sight. I am a tiny seashell that has secretly drifted ashore and carries the sound of the ocean surging through its body. I am so small now no one can see me. How can I be filled with such a vast love?
Edward Hirsch - 1950-
Veterans of Foreign Wars
Let's not forget the General Shuffling out in his gray slippers To feed the pigeons in Logan Square. He wore a battered White Sox cap And a heavy woolen scarf tossed Over his shoulder, even in summer. I remember how he muttered to himself And coughed into his newspaper And complained about his gout To the other Latvian exiles, The physicist who lived on Gogol Street In Riga, my grandfather's hometown, The auxiliary policeman from Daugavpils, And the chemical engineer, Who always gave me hard candy, Though grandfather spit And grandmother hurried me away When she saw them coming.