December 7, 1941
The way he told the story, he stood
on the wheat colored carpet
shortly after a winter dawn
dressed in rumpled striped pajamas
draped over a skinny eleven-year-old body
as he heard the incredible news from Dad
that someone had attacked our country
sunk most of our Navy
and that we were assuredly at war.
What I remember
is sitting in Bishop’s Restaurant
in my gray wool jumper
and red taffeta blouse
after Sunday School.
Bored with the adult’s conversation
I listened to two men from the Daily
talk about something I didn’t understand
until we came out of the movie in the winter dusk
and every young man with a uniform on
had a paper under his arm
with the word WAR
so large I could read it down the block.