It's the Homecoming Dance at Mid-American high school:
Fledgling belles discreetly pulling up their bodices and teetering on unaccustomed heels;
Dashing young men loosening their ties to dance the Electric Slide;
Hip-hop and glowing faces and fuchsia-colored punch.
My lively daughter, channeling Scarlett, flirts with six or seven at once, oblivious as Scarlett to anything but gallant and attentive young men. . . .Young soldiers soon to die?
Am I wrong to let dark thoughts of war, and pestilence, and loss intrude upon this Eden--
The dark wings of avian death, the flood-borne ruin of other children's lives, a country driven to a bloody war by lies?
My heart reminds me, then, of seasons and of times, and the "moment's sunlight" line.
Like Scarlett, I tell myself, "I'll think about it tomorrow."