Thirty Silvers

This poem, written in 1961, was included in the National Poetry Association’s annual titled, “America Sings.” It sounds like I was living in the Victorian Age, priggish perhaps. But you must remember I was studying, no, honestly fully living English Literature while at college. The profound love of the written word lives within me today. On the other hand, I hope I learned something since penning this little ditty.

Is it man’s right to strike a faithful friend?

Should a servant’s character a man offend?

With our rivers it is everyday practice

To take thirty silvers and steal a kiss.

Our old Ohio is a target of smear;

Its brown, oiled surface is chopped with fear

Near smoky plants that by custom have marred

Our drinking source in blatant disregard.

Water is our cleanser, not an old dump.

And think our tap is sucked by river pump!

Water symbolizes everlasting life,

And offers pleasure in this awful strife.

By touching nature we produce a mess;

Let us regard our gifts with more finesse.