It was a warm autumn day in Dallas,

The Kennedys were accepted by the Texans

with no apparent malice.

As the motorcade passed the Texas Book Depository

and turned onto Elm,

Our country stood proudly with JFK at the helm.

Jack sat on the left and Jackie on the right,

Men on the grassy knoll had our President in their sight.

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How many shots were fired? Three? Four? or Five?

The outcome was the same

because John F. Kennedy would not escape alive.

Was it Oswald, the Mafia, or the CIA?

America lost its innocence that very day.

Many theories abound concerning this assassination plot,

But the United States had lost its leader, its integrity, and Camelot.

Images of that long weekend in November still seem very clear,

The Caisson on Pennsylvania Avenue, John Junior’s salute,

Jackie with a tear.

How do I explain to my children when they ask me who’s to blame?

I can take them to Arlington National Cemetery

to see the Eternal Flame.

Still I try to put into perspective November 22, 1963,

Do I keep searching for the truth or let JFK’s legacy inspire me?

Michael S. O’Rourke

Ludlow