Much news to absorb in the paper today; financial bailouts for banks; the latest in presidential campaign polls; upcoming debate tonight; fires in Los Angeles; court rulings against the Episcopal Church in Virginia; and onward we plunge. So how about a poem for the day? A gift from Karen in Tennessee. The photo was taken somewhere in Utah on our trip east...The Sacred
by Stephen Dunn
After the teacher asked if anyone had
a sacred place
and the students fidgeted and shrank
in their chairs, the most serious of them all
said it was his car,
being in it alone, his tape deck playing
things he’d chosen, and others knew the truth
had been spoken
and began speaking about their rooms,
their hiding places, but the car kept coming up,
the car in motion,
music filling it, and sometimes one other person
who understood the bright altar of the dashboard
and how far way
a car could take him from the need
to speak, or to answer, the key
in having a key
and putting it in, and going.
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