Saturday, April 10, 2010
moment of joy, morning of sadness
We ate at the counter of Boston's O Ya. Plates of food that astonish and please all the senses.
The rain has stopped. We walk to the South Station T stop, pausing just for a split second to contemplate the perfectness of the moment.
I wake up to a bright and beautiful day.
...and I spend the hours reading all the Polish press online about the tragedy in Smoleńsk. Eighty-eight precious lives. A president, senators, military leaders, the grandchildren of those who died nearby, in another tragedy not too many years before I was born.
Today, it's hard to be a Pole.
The rain has stopped. We walk to the South Station T stop, pausing just for a split second to contemplate the perfectness of the moment.
I wake up to a bright and beautiful day.
...and I spend the hours reading all the Polish press online about the tragedy in Smoleńsk. Eighty-eight precious lives. A president, senators, military leaders, the grandchildren of those who died nearby, in another tragedy not too many years before I was born.
Today, it's hard to be a Pole.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
What a tragedy. My sympathies.
ReplyDeletePlease accept my condolences. A genuinely tragic loss of lives, made all the more devastating by its locale and the purpose of their trip. I can't think of another modern instance of such an accomplished group of people from one nation perishing in a single instant.
ReplyDeleteDevastating. I immediately thought of you when I heard. My condolences to you, daughter of Poland, and to all the Polish people. Such sadness for a nation and the world.
ReplyDelete