Morning notebook January 4, 2023

Cover of Planet of the Blind....man and dog....

I feel the tongues of the old poets
They again tell their stories, snake like,
Of first wonders, pleiades and wind


**

Dreaming of dead friends
All of them strangely happy
Though they’re grey as donkeys

**

We children hid among trees and watched the old woman who we’d been told “had a lobotomy”and we saw her as a witch. We dug into our foxhole. She came out of her trailer home and swept her garden path with a broom. We were speechless, separate, ambiguous little creatures in the presence of nameless adult suffering. This is why pastoral verse is hopeless.

**

This is why memories in the middle of the night can’t be assuaged by TV. The sadness of others sweeps us. Caesar knew.

I get down on my knees and touch the ground. If forgiveness isn’t possible at least I can tap some Morse Code…

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: