Posted: September 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

By Ric Ohge


There’s going to be a parade.

All the children scuff and chase, 

giggling and shifting through 

and around their silent elders.


For it was summertime, 

long days for carnivals, and 

circuses, tumblers and clowns, 

for loud happy throngs passing 

through market and town. 


“Yes, child…” a mother said, 

pursing lips and wiping her 

eyes absent-mindedly, 

“There’ll be another parade.”


The fire and thunder in the 

hills beyond, had shaken

the last days of spring.


Children whispered 

in their private cabals, 

as to what summer 

might surely bring.


But a scant week ago, 

the thunder ceased 

as the elders began 

to look up the road, 

and beyond, 

with silent resignation 

and solemn expectation.


Soon, the bright morning 

brought the sound of a brass band 

with the crash of cymbals…


and the steady 

thudding tread

of booted feet.


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