Monday, January 23, 2017

Crazy daisy, red and round


On the playground, a boy so desperate
for attention he will do anything to make the others
look at him,

and when he is ignored,
except by those almost as sadly desperate as he,

there is war in the world,

even as the crocuses and daffodils peek through the snow
and you and I are singing and holding hands,

(we are always in love, we many, we two)

and when we are on our way home from our piano lessons,
looking out at the dormant vineyards and crooked streets
of the old hometown,

(O bakery shop windows!)

well, we might have known,

deep in our feather down,
to the beat of our metronome,
here in our room,

as we watch him fading from view,
we throw open our window to rid ourselves
of the smoke of his rancid candle,

(or use a broom, if we so choose)

thinking,

isn’t it sad we must learn by the example
of those without love,

and yet somehow, beautiful too?



2 comments:

erin said...

william, you make me cry with this. always somehow you manage with the civility and humility i would wish for us all.

yes, beautiful too. (i know it in my mind. there i allow it. but i caution myself about it. i fear there is too much to be lost in the meantime. but i'll try not to lose myself to the fear.)

do you know this bly poem? your poem reminds me of it.

Keeping Quiet by Robert Bly

A friend of mine says that every war
Is some violence in childhood coming closer.
Those whoppings in the shed weren’t a joke.
On the whole, it didn’t turn out well.

This has been going on for thousands
Of years! It doesn’t change. Something
Happened to me, and I can’t tell
Anyone, so it will happen to you.

William Michaelian said...

How painfully lovely. No, this is the first time I’ve read it, at least that I can remember, and I do see the connection.

Does the meantime exist? I don’t know. It seems the very saying so is what brings it into being.