
Humans like to be “head of the Mountain”. But some sacrifice themselves for their country ’s democracy!
She Tells Her Child of the Assassination
by Marjorie Saiser
In November of 1963, you
were all the center of my days
and when I heard on TV
Kennedy had been shot,
I wrapped you in your blue
blanket and walked for miles (I was
strong then), carrying you
on sidewalks in the middle
of a country stunned by rapid-fire
bulletins. It was
pink Chanel suit, brain matter,
film loop, Walter Cronkite—
but I had your sweet-
smelling head close to my lips
and I walked 40th Street. The leaves
broke and scattered under my feet.
I passed the blank faces of doors and windows,
the news spreading dark over the lawns.
“She Tells Her Child of the Assassination” by Marjorie Saiser from I Have Nothing to Say About Fire. © The Backwaters Press, 2016. Reprinted with permission.
“Writing is…that oddest of anomalies: an intimate letter to a stranger.” —Pico Iyer
“The less conscious one is of being ‘a writer,’ the better the writing.” —Pico Iyer