National Museum of Art

Midnight, 8 November. Stars so bright overhead, the big dipper low on the horizon. A frost layed down coating of ice on the deck railing. A black night save for the hope lit in the stars.

It is election day and there is a clenching in my body as if I chugalugged a bottle of anxiety. Sadness at what has become of the country I love. I have walked in the path of beauty in all things. Now there is this squeeze within, the desperate foreboding that this election has changed what America and I have stood for. The passion and pride for my country brought tears to my eyes in 1954 when the Liberty steamed into New York Harbor and passed the Statue of Liberty, will it be water boarded out of us?

The anger and hatred that raised the hairs on the back of my neck on that day spent in Dachau in 1982…it is back, this Dachau disease.

A moral compass directed my life but now the foundation of my soul has been crushed, stamped upon, swore at.



1 Comment

  1. Dave Jenkins on December 7, 2016 at 4:05 am

    Peter, Peter! You know what the progressives have done to Vermont. Can’t you see what they have been doing to our country?

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