Hearts in the house are tangled
And angry; strings knot our feet.
Let’s go out and walk.
We cross to the old graveyard.
Evening sun splashes the lawns.
Slim, ancient headstones
Lean away from the path,
This one thrown down
In some rite of teenage mischief.
Behind us, our children
Wobble on their bikes,
Riding, safe, in this quiet place.
As the sun tips into twilight,
My hardened heart grows soft
And we turn back toward home
To try it all once again.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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It takes John Updike about 5000 words to tell this same story - and not any more effectively. Really, after reading this, I felt as if I'd just finished a very satisfying short story. Beautifully written. Beautifully done.
ReplyDeleteThis is good philosophy expressed in a very real scene that haunts me...
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