THE LADIES PAGE

COUNTRY ECHOES


| March/April 1974



Steam engine

By the time this issue of the Iron Men Album arrives at your home in February of 1974 I wonder what more will have developed on the national and world scene. The writing of this column, of course, was done among the Christmas preparations of 1973. We had a few dismally dark days during December. One hardly knew it was daylight. These distressed the soul to the uttermost, and out of these came the following peom.

DECEMBER IS MY WATERGATE

I find nothing profound amongst your dark skinned hours.
Nothing to cheer but fire's warmth and glow.
Nothing for adding to imagined towers
Nothing encouraging to make my house plants grow.

Sadly they grimace. Only cacti weather
All of your gloom. My carpet rags grow knots.
Candle-lit fingers fail to tie and tether
Badly worn cloth, nor alter inky blots.

Hie then away, December's deep despairing.
(This year no lights, no glowing Christmas tree.)
Take then your shortest day and go wayfaring
I've had enough of baleful '73.

Now what of 1974, I asked  myself among the anxiety. One can't be a concerned person and not care. What of all the argumentive and conflicting voices on every hand? And then a great thing happened to me as a person. My father used to say, 'It has to get about so bad before it gets any better.' To this I can say, 'Amen!'