Day 41 - This Line of Walkers
Poem by Angus Watkins
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| Day 41 - This Line of Walkers Poem by Angus Watkins |
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Who will recall this line of walkers that wound like a mardi gras serpent up route fifteen one Spring bearing banners that snapped truths in the breeze, strolling to cadence of drumbeats and buddhists' chanted prayers? A small parade on a large journey through five states, we strode, slow yet steady against the rushing current of traffic, time, and lesser pursuits. Like some nervous and curious horses that hurried and leaned to look over fences, a ceaseless flood of truckers and commuters tapped their brakes briefly, leaning over their dashboards, stunned at the nerve of this tiny processional. As all the honkers and beepers or bleepers made their offerings of digital signs- thumbs up, thumbs down, middle fingers up- shouting "Peace, baby!" or "Get a job, this is America!" not to mention those who gripped steering wheels with their gaze fixed rigidly straight ahead as if to erase the peace we would spread, I bent over a chickadee smashed by a car, picked up the handful of feathers, stepping out of line to pray for the life that was and place it in tall grass beside the long road. Where are you hurrying, for what or whom and how many, with your life? from Oak Ridge, Tennessee to the UN in New York City toward renewal of Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, March 12 - May 1, 2005 |
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