|
More than seventy years ago, during my college reporting days, I became acquainted with
Walt Mason, a fellow Detroit Free Press writer with
an unusual writing style. He wrote poems in prose.
In retrospect, one of Walt’s offerings, “Life’s Bumpy Road,” made a marked impression on a college student soon
to become an adult.
I still remember one of his soliloquies in particular, and even today I can quote it verbatim. Perhaps it may help
others as it has helped me.
Life’s Bumpy Road
The darkest hour o’weeper is just before the dawn. Agony grows deeper. Then behold it’s gone. The bright sun comes
up smiling, prospects are beguiling, a gentle breeze is piling rose petals on the lawn.
How often have I muttered all mortal things are snares. The house of hope is shuttered and closed up for repairs.
Grim bogies come to gore me and biff me unawares.
Passing years have brought me dim eyes and toothless gums; but they, at least, have taught me morning always comes.
For years, Walt wrote for Detroit’s prestigious newspaper. Middle-aged when I first knew him, undoubtedly he now
resides in another realm still writing profound encouragements.
If you have questions or comments about this Web page or site, e-mail: mary@vanmeer.com
© 2002 Leo VanMeer
Return To Top
|