04-23-2023, 11:30 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-23-2023, 11:38 PM by RiverNotch.)
When I was a kid I had wings.
I listened to the Beatles with fresh ears.
I walked in my dreams; I did not sit
like a director, telling an image of myself
how to act, nor did I select
which scenes to keep and which to cut
like an editor. I wrote
stories, not poems.
I could look at a woman, be approached by her,
listen to her talk and talk to her in turn,
and think to myself, "She's the one".
I could sit beside a man, be quiet with him,
glance quickly at his hair, at the back of his neck,
at the looseness of his shoulders, and think to myself
the same thing. I saw a face coalesce
from the multicolored dots
left bouncing in my eyes
by whatever light with which
I imaged all the rest
of the erring world, and it was handsome.
All life afterwards has been
not a recollection but
an unpeeling.
Chopped out most of last stanza.
I listened to the Beatles with fresh ears.
I walked in my dreams; I did not sit
like a director, telling an image of myself
how to act, nor did I select
which scenes to keep and which to cut
like an editor. I wrote
stories, not poems.
I could look at a woman, be approached by her,
listen to her talk and talk to her in turn,
and think to myself, "She's the one".
I could sit beside a man, be quiet with him,
glance quickly at his hair, at the back of his neck,
at the looseness of his shoulders, and think to myself
the same thing. I saw a face coalesce
from the multicolored dots
left bouncing in my eyes
by whatever light with which
I imaged all the rest
of the erring world, and it was handsome.
All life afterwards has been
not a recollection but
an unpeeling.
Chopped out most of last stanza.