A wave in the water. The word opens, shape for knowing at edges, darker fields, trouble: a wave in the water. The word waits long to shatter on silence, prove, prove that falling is a wave. In the water, the word opens, shape for knowing.
Ten inches of snow this week, gradual, over four days, so that we didn’t realize
until we tried to walk the tow path along the canal how deep it was,
and I think again how quickly this first trimester’s gone a season already, reaching
around to rub her round belly, its waters stirred this month by tiny fingers and toes,
knowing our baby has earlobes now, and genitals, hearing again the racing
heart in the doctor’s office, wishing my father, who sat up at night like this to smoke,
could be here, so that I could show him how I sing into the belly
when she lies back down, and could ask him about the dark and its lack of answers,
dark he slumped in for years with his beer and news radio, dark he drove to work in
and came home in, lived on those last few months through tubes and drugs,
dark he lives in now, or does not, dark our baby swims from tonight,
in the waters where time begins, adding cells and muscle and bone all the hard way to our lives.
Study war no more
Mar 18, 2011
Michael Izbicki grew up in a nondenominational church in California. A National Merit Scholarship finalist, he chose to go to the U.S. Naval Academy out of a sense of duty to his country during a time of war. At the naval academy he began to doubt whether the career to which he had committed himself could be squared with the tenets of just war doctrine. He got in trouble when he responded no to this exam question: "If given the order, would you launch a missile carrying a nuclear warhead?" After a four-year legal battle, the navy discharged him as a conscientious objector. Izbicki may have to reimburse the service for part or all of his education (New York Times, February 22).