every breath a bead in an endless strand
"I'm not sure about all this, but I'm starting to get the hang of it."
LITTLE GIDDING (No. 4 of 'Four Quartets') T.S....
The Wasteland -- T.S. Eliot <!-- end head...
"Cold Poem"Cold now.Close to the edge. Almostunbea...
About.com Robert PinskyRobert Pinsky’s The Sounds ...
: "A PRAYER FOR OLD AGEA PRAYER FOR OLD AGEGOD gua...
A trickle of sweat ran behind my ear
While i hit rocks with an old baseball bat.
I did that in the corn fields every year,
When I was young, but now i'm done with that.
Now baseball is a game, my children play.
Before my eyes, my son hit a home run;
We took the team to celebrate the day;
Root beer and Pizza for all: it was fun.
He doesn't share the Anger that I had
He does his best in front of all his friends.
When the team fails, he knows he wasn't bad.
To win, is a begining, not an end
In his young social life, I see no fear.
No trace of that which haunted me these years