Saturday, January 18, 2014

A fairy tale


A fairy tale, eccentric in its demands, heedless of its bounds, true to gentle need, the girls at tea, the boys in solemn stillness at their feet — such the day portends, for this monster is a friend — and then we see him in the street — and how we pity him when he hides his face from shop windows, and peeks between his thumbs — and how we weep is what becomes of him, and us — who is above such a tale? who, beyond all paltry busyness, does not sorrow for the winter sun?



2 comments:

Jan said...

One thing about fairy tales...not all have a happy ending. But then, such is life.

Enjoyed very much, William.

William Michaelian said...

I’m glad, Jan. Thank you, dear friend.