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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3389 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention On the Other Side of the Park Christopher T. George from where I live they found your son's body where the run trickles, on its way toward the bay. I watch it flow under ice, around water-smooth stones, mid-winter but already daffodils thrusting through cold earth. Jim, in college, I never knew you: ahead of me at our Jesuit school, dominant in the lit mag I'd edit; on the cover, my close-up of Loyola, the soldier-priest's marble face, his fissured cheek. I realize you never moved away, you and your wife active in community affairs. Today you grieve for your talented son, the boy who could have been mine -- the son I never had. |
