When we pop open the memory chest
Out they spill, the worst, the best
Don’t really remember my 9th birthday
That same week, locked forever, that Friday
Released from our Skipwith Elementary class
A lesson break, our recess pass
Mrs. Warnke had us lined up in the hall
As good 3rd graders were trained to do
A voice over the PA stopped us all
President Kennedy had been shot..now we knew..
From that moment on..I’d remember
We played my favorite; dodgeball
What did we discuss, what’d we say
Those details have long slipped away
Later, at home, assassination was the news
Two days later, locked in, hallway views
Jack Ruby shooting Oswald on live TV
Then other scenes I’ll never unsee
A flag draped casket, horse drawn
Just behind, a riderless horse
Sweet little Caroline, tiny JohnJohn
Deep memories, national remorse
We don’t get to pick, cannot choose
What we lock away, what we lose
The delight of a love, known at first sight
The horror of tragedy cast into the light
Some deeply personal, many we share..
A day, a season to lay our humanity bare
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