Here you will find the Poem The Journey of poet David Ignatow
I am looking for a past I can rely on in order to look to death with equanimity. What was given me: my mother?s largeness to protect me, my father?s regularity in coming home from work at night, his opening the door silently and smiling, pleased to be back and the lights on in all the rooms through which I could run freely or sit at ease at table and do my homework undisturbed: love arranged as order directed at the next day. Going to bed was a journey.
