“From an Open Window”
By Ashley E. Kauffman
From an open window,
I saw a sea of people lined up to greet us.
They moved closer as we exited the plane,
Like waves that were anxious to touch the shore.
I wore the pale pink suit,
That he loved so much.
I graciously accepted the red roses,
As we greeted people on our way to the limousine.
His presence projected a beacon of hope,
That made people feel secure,
And somehow gave them a sense of direction.
Massive crowds just wanted to snap a picture,
Or reach out and touch his hand.
American flags were strung uniformly across the streets,
Providing a gentle reminder of all we had to be thankful for.
We drove through Dealey Plaza,
As we headed toward the Trade Mart.
It was November 22, 1963,
My first public appearance since I lost the baby.
I felt a sense of closeness to him,
That sometimes was hard to feel,
Because of the current,
That pulled him in so many different directions.
I smiled and waved,
As my pink pillbox hat,
Remained securely on my head.
From an open window,
Shots were fired,
And my life would never be the same.
