Welcome
|

|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|
Members' Poems
|

|

|
|
|

|
|
|
About the PSV
|

|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|
About poetry and poets
|

|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|

|
|
|
|

|

The Poetry Society of Virginia: Jean Russell
|

|
|

|

|

Pentagon
Why i decided to go, I don't know I guess it didn't suffice seeing it on tv night after night after night.
When i was a child, we lived so close my sister would help me draw A picture but i drew four sides and she'd say, no, no, sissy, there are five.
Sunday I drove, i dont know why I wanted to see it for myself with my own saddened eyes It is merely a slice out of one huge side.
The sight isn't large but it's horrible The sight isn't impossible, it is mendable. It's glued to my rear view mirror because seeing it is when i finally cried.
A group of people stand across the street watching and waiting and praying and people with cameras and binoculars waiting for something, staying.
We are all waiting for something. looking behind us while looking ahead and praying to God for all the dead and watching something blue, white and red.
And it is horrible but it's mendable And cowards are expendable.
by Jean Russell, 9/13/01
Airport Without Planes
A slow dawning Last Friday morning September 21st Ronald Reagan the sign says Washington National Airport but where are all the planes?
Haven't we seen enough planes On the tv every hour In our nightmares every night In our phone calls every day In the eyes of little children?
Riding along the Potomac Driving by this airport I slow down and try to find them United and American Delta and Southwestern They all have disappeared.
A rally group at sunrise With signs and flags, they shout "Open Reagan Airport" Amid white media trucks Lined up like covered wagons The cameras all are rolling But where are all our planes?
And then a roar above us A sound to shake our souls The rally people silent And everyone looks upward A sound not heard for weeks
A roar above our White House A roar above DC A roar above the airport Six fighters in formation Across their sides we read it We see it from our cars
We see it from the Pentagon That's not a mile away The letters spelling purpose These letters on our fighters Three letters - U. S. A.
by Jean Russell, 9/22/01
|

|
|