Undertow

The Great Escape - The Birds - Charade - The Fugitive, The Twilight Zone It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World- Civil rights, Viet Nam The Beatles begged to hold my hand The day was young and so was I My eyes were focused inward, never far my own home In the tides where I swam, the shoreline seemed far from my door The morning broke, and all was well. Just me alone with Jack LaLane, A new routine to start the day. The seas were calm within the room I was swimming on the floor, lifting legs, breathing hard until…..until…..until Abruptly, as the static rose, Jack soon transformed into fuzzy snow An anchored voice would pull me down, as if a wave was drowning me Cronkite appeared with solemn eyes, he cleared his throat, and took a breath I searched within his trademark psalm to calm the storm that whirled around But none was found. As he kept control, he let the wounded words unfold I begged for him to change the tide, but magnitude too great to own The undertow was understood. The day was bright, with amber light. Leaves drifted down as they must do Football games, a dance that night. Holidays had been conceived But life and death were thick as thieves, giving lungs no time to breathe No hit parades, no silver screen, charades, escapes or Hitchcock tales. An unrelenting undertow had swept the ground beneath my feet I remember how the day was born, intended for a different end Ringo, George, Paul and John .. was there someone there to hold my hand? No great escape. I had to drown. It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World _______________________________________________