(Click to enlarge for reading)
If I could choose what I would like to be
I'd choose the wind. Then rise and kiss the sky
In spring, I'd be the lilac wind of May, untie
The rose and scatter loveliness. I'd free
The kidnapped autumn leaves upon the tree,
And drown the brown October fields which lie
Whispering dry songs and waiting now to die.
And if my Zephyr wish were granted me,
I'd be the shadowed wind of March and lay
Rich melodies across the grasses bright
And I would blacken winters earth and gray
The hilltops with my breath, and I would light
Rivers with lanterns of ice, but I play
My wind games only on pages I write.
~untitled sonnet by Ellen Trafford
Today's post honors writer and editor Ellen Trafford, born on this day in 1925. Ellen was my next-door neighbor in Philadelphia for three years, and I count myself lucky to have been her friend for the last five years of her life. When we moved in and she learned that my husband Gerry was from England, she shared with us her favorite nickname: "Old Trafford," an appellation she was proud to share with the big soccer stadium in Manchester, England. When Gerry's parents visited from England, they delighted Ellen with an official "Old Trafford" sweatshirt.
Here she is (look closely!) wearing her sweatshirt and waving from her front step (hers was the blue door; mine the black one):
home of Manchester United