Brookwood Hall

The origin of the word orphan:

Orpheos. Bereft. A word all alone.

Greek, then Latin, not Anglo Saxon--or

H3orbos-Indo European. Turned out.

A loved child I thought I knew of Orphans

From the old orphanage at Brookwood Hall

Imagining the children there like Oliver

Or Sarah Crewe, knowing they'd be rescued.

And now I know no such thought. Know kids are caged.

Yes kids are caged. And fostered or in streets.

I am bereft of Illusions. They're dead.

I enter Brookwood Hall in my mind's eye

(Not the boarded up neglected building

It too, orphaned, nor the art gallery

When the lawn was our ballfield and playground.

We shouted by the sandy stream and scared

Shrieking seagulls, crossing water by stones.)

I enter and see lines of small children

Women in white wimples doling out soup

In the same year that small Jewish children

Starved in Warsaw, tried to rescue themselves-

Run, children, shout on the great lawn and scare

The ornery birds away. Cross the stream

Stepping carefully on the damp slick stones.

The Secret Garden is there for you.

Ask for More, and I hope to God, receive.

No. My orphancy. Bereft.