Monday, June 21, 2010

cuban missile crisis

by arnold schnabel

illustrations by rhoda penmarq






An ash-grey morning, I stare at the sky;
Will this be the day that the missiles fall?















There’s nothing to be done, except to pray
Upon our knees, and ask the good Lord why










He cannot spare some of us, if not all,
If we promise to worship Him each day










And every night for the rest of our
Portion of what He should grant us of life,










If only a year, or a month, or just
A week, or a day, or even an hour,











No matter how fraught with fear and with strife,
Before we are blown into cosmic dust.










An ash-grey evening, I stare at the sky;
Will this be the night that you and I die?









5 comments:

Dan Leo said...

Once again, Rhoda, your illustrations so admirably reflect the spirit of Schnabel...

Old 333 said...

Awesome! I loved the ships. Who is Schnabel? (I should look it up, i am lazy)

I always feel like I'm playing the ultimate lost game from the Apple II when I read(?) these illustrations. They just pull me in forever. I particularly like the 'fancy car' that turns up in some of the stories. Classic unit, that.

Old 333 said...

OK, I wasn't so lazy, I looked up Arnold Scnabel. Neat.

Old 333 said...

But...(re: Arnie)...what will you do if he becomes real? What if he...becomes you?

kathleenmaher said...

Arnold's a national treasure and rhoda's right next to him.
(My mother talks about this crisis: The report came from her car radio whereupon she sped to Saks Fifth Avenue and maxxed out the credit cards, since it was quite likely the the bills would never come.)