Conscientious Objector

Original post;  Dec. 17, 2012

At a talk last summer, Maya Angelou quoted a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) that speaks to me after this latest school massacre.  I’ve taken the liberty to change a couple of references just to bring it into the present:

 

 

I shall die, but that is all I shall do for Death.

 

I hear him leading his horse out of the stall; I hear the clatter

    on the barn floor.

He is in haste; he has business in the Congo, business in 

    Afghanistan, many calls to make this morning.

But I will not hold the bridle while he cinches the girth.

And he may mount by himself: I will not give him a leg up.

 

Though he flick my shoulders with his whip, I will not tell him

    which way the fox ran.

With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where the 

    angry, lonely boy with guns hides in the cellar.

I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death: I am not

    on his payroll.

 

I will not tell him the whereabouts of my friends nor of my

    enemies either.

Though he promises me much, I will not map him the route 

    to any man’s door.

Am I a spy in the land of the living, that I should deliver men

    to Death?

Brother, the password and the plans of our city are safe with

    me; never through me

Shall you be overcome.           

 

* We miss you, Maya!