Yesterday after work I sat and read. I was again at a favorite location. A number of the people at the pub, I know, and talk with often. I let the noise of the pub help to settle into my reading.
Now I’m reading and I’m turning pages and I like the book. I’m reading about how a child is trying to teach his father and the father misunderstands these lessons. I read about the drum tapping as soldiers prepare for battle. The Poet is doing everything. He manipulates his use of grammar perfectly for him and his words.
I’m deeper now and turning another page and I realize I’m smiling. I’m smiling and I’m turning the page and I’m seeing the bookmark and I stop to ask for a pen and I write-
To Smile Without Pause-
To This I give Myself Permission
mtaggartwriter 
I really like how you write this: “I let the noise of the pub help to settle into my reading”
. I can be easily distracted by noise and have been meaning to give this a go – as you describe. How does the book end?
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I’m not sure. I’m half way through and each poem has it’s own identity. Yet, collected together you can see it’s much about the civil war and humanity. It’s very good. Thank you for asking.
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