She was restless in Mass, a three-years’ child
And in her patient father’s loving arms
She wriggled
She squiggled
She giggled
And then she lay ‘way back and looked ‘way up
What went she into the desert to see -
A light fixture? An air-conditioning vent?
Oh, no
Her eyes were large
Her lips were still
Her breaths were soft
- she saw much more
She was happy in Mass, a three-years’ child
And from her father’s arms something she saw…
What?
Who?
She smiled
(And of course she may have been delighted with the vision of an air-conditioning vent after all; a small child’s learning curve is more open to joy than ours)
I had a serious poem - on school violence - prepped for today, but given the situation in El Paso will defer posting it until tomorrow.
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is: Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree: THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
