Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=563935" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Missing in action</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Although she’s mopping the kitchen floor,<br>Ella is crying.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Words come out of her husband’s mouth.<br>Some variation of “Stop now, Ella.”<br>Ed’s a good man, <br>keeps his lawn trimmed,<br>stays away from liquor and the racetrack.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Neighbours bring meals.<br>Roast chicken, gumbo, lasagna.<br>Ella remembers her father saying,<br>“Food is love, the only way some folks can speak.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Roland’s room.<br>Ella stands at its threshold,<br>looks again at the wall poster of Sly Stone<br>wearing a rainbow-coloured cap,<br>on stage at Woodstock,<br>once a hit-maker,<br>once a hero.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Evenings, after dinner,<br>sometimes Ed moves towards the record player,<br>then shakes his head,<br>knows Ella isn’t ready,<br>tells himself<br>that the quiet,<br>after an eight hour shift at the brewery,<br>is good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ella removes the candlestick holder<br>from the dining-room table,<br>to work further on her quilt,<br>the story of her sharecropper parents<br>told in panels,<br>told in thread and stitches,<br>their days of work and prayer<br>sewn into a field of cloth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the quilt<br>trees appear.<br>Trees in which<br>a girl could hide,<br>pretend she was a bird,<br>flying away from her home<br>of plank and tin,<br>flying away from the South,<br>following the moon-lit railway tracks<br>all the way to Chicago.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From his armchair,<br>Ed looks up from the book he’s reading.<br>He cannot see words<br>only Roland,<br>lying in mud,<br>flies crawling his face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ed closes his eyes<br>until the image leaves him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is Ella,<br>still at the dining-room table,<br>working on her quilt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ed watches the threaded needle<br>dive and resurface,<br>guided by his wife’s steady hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Peter+Bakowski">Peter Bakowski</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=563935" data-title="Missing in action de Peter Bakowski" data-description="Although she’s mopping the kitchen floor,
Ella is crying.

Words come out of her husband’s mouth.
Some variation of “Stop now, Ella.”
Ed’s a good man, 
keeps his lawn trimmed,
stays away from liquor and the racetrack.

Neighbours bring m..."></div>
</div>
</div>