Oh, how I wish you could see and hear what was done.
Today we spoke of what has become history, the present all at once;
of how Thunderbirds have lined their nest with feathers of fire, and decorated nest walls with leather laces, strung with beads bummed from a Summer-school Social Studies teacher.
It was the best kind of lesson. (A history lesson.)
Robert Frost and John Coltrane were present, but you were missing, lost this last year.
However, you still live inside of your Never-forgotten instructions:
“Go down to Felix Street and see a man named Hans. He’ll show you what to do.”
(I did as I was told.)
Neither of us knew it then, but what I’d heard was: