And the sunlight smiling over your face
Beaming warm glow,
Lifting you from the earth with
each
small
step.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Forgotten fragments, old scribbling
Rowan gets told by others that Boys Don't Skip. He gets quite insistent. It usually takes ten minutes of me skipping everywhere to break him of that. Then he skips nearly everywhere. There is something so natural about a skip in a young child's gate. So casually joyful.
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6 comments:
Asiz Anasari: "They say the hardest part of learning to rollerblade is telling your parents that you're gay."
David, I have to say, I like your angry disgruntled poems more than your happy poems, and I think i have just realized that it is because you refuse to allow yourself to be fully happy, so you have to force the last measure on the page, where when you're unhappy (or at least disgruntled), you embrace it with a resonant sense that the world is at it should be.
Or maybe this is just me.
But I can't quite see your son skipping in this poem. In some of your others, the object of your spite is quite uncomfortably clear.
Wait, I thought my poems on breasts were my highlight?
Point. You excel at disgruntlement and raw animal lust.
Funny thing is, I don't think I was shooting for *happy*, exactly.
Also, amusingly, the central image is lifted from Tim O'Brien's 'How to Tell a True War Story', in which he describes how someone steps from shadow into sunlight and onto a land mine, and the appearance of the bright light lifting them up into a tree.
You can take the boy out of the misery, but apparently...
The sun-smiling bit comes from a mis-remembering of psalm 67. I don't think it works.
Alternate:
And the sun shall shine upon your face,
Soft warm beams lifting you from the earth with
each
small
step.
Ideally, the last three lines should be indented, but that's not how html rolls, unfortunately.
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