Old White Men

“Gettysburg” (photo by m.a.h. hinton)

Cooler than normal temperatures have descended upon the North Country. This morning the sky is overcast and gray. With the windows closed, the sound of bird songs is muted. Yet still I am up early and writing.

It has been a week since getting back from Montana. This week I head to Chicago for a Dead and Company concert at Wrigley Field. In a different way, it will be a similar trip: returning to a place I once lived and still love.

I lived in Chicago two different times in my early 20s. In Bucktown for five months (1981) while a college student then for two years in Hyde Park as a seminary student (1982-84).

Without realizing I was doing so, this summer appears to have become a tour of my youth.

 

OLD WHITE MEN [a draft]
by M.A.H. Hinton

I crank out
the pages

in end
it is the only thing
I know
I know how to do

a scrawl
a scratch
a ruminating soul

a man nears 60
and realizes
that most of what he knows
was picked up
in a small town
that is long gone
but remains on maps anyway

my daughters tell me
it is time
for old white men
to give way

we have ruined
the world enough already

wars
and poverty
and injustice

I say
this old white man
has already given way
and did
a long time ago

 

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