nor Ollie with us. Frank clears his throat.

Did you know, Muriel, that Ed and Howard

enlisted yesterday? I say nothing. He goes on.

John and Hal are planning to sign up next week. It’s dark—

Frank can’t see me roll my eyes. The ants go marching …

is my only comment. That childish song is still

singing itself in my head as we come home

and Frank holds out his hand to help me

from the buggy, as if I were a fine lady,

and he Sir Galahad. And then: May I

kiss you, Muriel? So gently asked,

a sweet surprise. A kiss would change

so much—I hesitate. Ordinarily, he says, I wouldn’t be

in such a hurry; you know me, I always take my time.

But—I’ve been trying to tell you—

I’m going to France. I leave next Monday.

It would sure be nice to have a girl

back home to write to—someone waiting

for me, someone to keep fighting for.

A girl. Someone. He doesn’t have time

to choose, to court, to fall in love,

and here I stand. It must seem easy, obvious.

But— No, Frank, I answer, I can’t

do that for you. I’ll be glad to write to you;

you know we all will. Grace will keep on

sending you her little drawings. We’ll miss you—

I’ll miss you—more than I can say.

I wish you wouldn’t go. I wish no one would …

Frank shakes his head. Am I confusing him?

Has he planned how this should work—get a girl,

go to war, come home a hero, and get married?

His smile fades—if I believed that one sweet kiss

could bring it back, I might

want to give him that small comfort.

But no. Frank signed up for this.

I didn’t. It is not up to me

to make it easier.

Would It Hurt? / Emma

Would It Hurt?

Emma

A kiss is not a marriage vow,

I argue with Muriel. For pity’s sake,

would it hurt you to give Frank a little dream

to tuck into his heart before he leaves? One kiss—

you wouldn’t be engaged, just something for my brother

to hang on to in the lonely times when he’s far from home.

I don’t know exactly what happened between you last night,

but from Frank’s face today, it’s not hard to guess. He might

not come back from this war! Are your ideas so set in stone

that you can’t put them aside, or at least consider another,

more gentle point of view? Believe me, Muriel, I hate this

war as much as you do, but truly, in the overall scheme

of things, would one little kiss be so hard to take?

Muriel’s only answer is, I don’t know.

Right in Front of Everyone / Ollie

Right in Front of Everyone

Ollie