“But are they sad?” I overheard her say.
No more than five
Up North with mum for the August bank holiday.
I saw what she meant. They hardly seemed alive
Compared with, overhead, the flock of geese
That flew with everything they had toward France
Or Spain. All of a sudden, all eyes went skyward.
But if the swans were jealous, they held their peace.
I bet they knew, by then, they’d had their chance.
Homesick, maybe. Sad? That wasn’t my word.
—Dan Rattelle
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Christian Ownership Maximalism
Christendom is gone. So, too, is much of the Western civilization that was built atop it. Christians…
Abandonment of Truth (ft. George Weigel)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, George Weigel joins…
Kings, Behold and Wail
I was a full-time parish priest at a time when we still visited people in their homes.…
