Learning - William Stafford
A piccolo played, then a drum. Feet began to come -a part of the music. Here comes a horse, clippety clop, away. My mother said, "Don't run- the army is after someone other than us. If you stay you'll learn our enemy." Then he came, the speaker. He stood in the square. He told us who to hate. I watched my mother's face, its quiet. "That's him," she said.