the other boys and their fathers
were inside, eating hors d’oeuvres,
drinking hot cider to take the
chill out of the air, I was outside
looking in, at the reflection of the
dancing flames on the dark mahogany walls.
I willed my father to reappear next to me
in the room with the other families;
he stood in a pool of light in a distant
phone booth, head bowed, the rain
unable to cleanse us of this war.
.
Thanks to DC for sharing this image of Robert MacNamara in 1968 at an event in a small boarding school in New Hampshire where he attended school with the son of RM.
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