Raving Dove, October 2006
Walking early this morning, I make my usual loop through the Baltimore County Courthouse grounds. I pass the fountain with its wrought-iron fence, and arrive at the old green cannon with its perfect pyramid of cannonballs. I know that old cannon well. Once, when I was a child, my father surprised me by hoisting me up onto the barrel. Over the years, I have brought my children to the courthouse to watch the parades on the Fourth. They too have clambered around the cannon, and smacked their hands against the cool surface of those fourteen cannonballs. My children are grown now; they are old enough to serve in the armed forces.