Walls

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

One of my library holds has come in, so on the ole morrow I’ll off to the library and pick up Brian Hall’s Fall of Frost – a fictional rendering of the life of Robert Frost. Frost always puts me in mind of this poem. Yeah…me too, So I’m thinking walls.

Seems like no sooner had we won the cold war, celebrating with fervor the tearing down of the Berlin Wall, we started building them again. Almost 21 years after conservative darling Ron Reagan threw down the gauntlet to Gorbachev (“...come here to this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!“) we’re pouring the concrete in Sadr City. In the Border Protection, Anti-terrorism, and Illegal Immigration Control Act of 2005, a fence was authorized to be erected between the U.S. and Mexico.

The things we do in the name of “security”. Guess, if we build ‘em they mist be ok, huh?. They’re erected after all, in the name of security, in the name of protection, in the battle against terrorism. If the other builds ‘em, they are blights on the sacred ground of freedom, barriers against the truth.

Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out