Turning on the TV and what do I see?. A pageantry of empty gestures all lined up for me - wow!. I'd have thought by now we would be ready to proceed. But a tearful hymn to tug the heart and a man-sized wreath - ow!.
Mr. Richards, your position. Is a messenger pigeon. Left behind you when the camp moved on. . We thought that you would listen. But the words had never crystallized.