Jun 6, 2008


I went down to the river again because time isn't passing, just while it is, so fast. There have been very many words to say. I keep forgetting a lot. I was walking the railroad tracks and found a piece of wood that fit my hand and stood to my shoulder, smooth and bare and worn at the ends. It is a river stick. I brought it home with me. It is a very friendly river stick and my touch was not first. It's on the front step now, tall, light. Now the sun is here for the very first time and the little boy is coming for his lesson in an hour. Today will be bass clef note names all cows eat grass and every good bird, that's not coming out quite right, but you know what I mean or don't. Dolly Dear, Sandman's Near. We will soon be sleeping. C B A. C B A. BC BC A. A. When I teach songs I learned at nine years old I feel ancient and new and lost. He picks things up very quickly when he wants, he is bright though he looks every which way. But we are our own child counting together and tapping to a chant KWORTER KWORTER HA'F note, 1-2 THREE! Dolly Dear, Sandman's Near. We will soon be better.


runnerfrog said...

That's for sure you will! ;-)
...And we all pick things up very quickly when we want to, C.! It is common to the human race. And I feel like saying the most naive: We're all children, believing in wars while we pee on ourselves; if we are not a humanity of children, then we would not be this afraid of death, and loneliness, and of questioning our beliefs, and of the most natural things. We pick up things very quickly when we want to. Or at least... _I_ am somehow like the little boy all the time, then.
Or like the word verification says, with all wisdom: Apipilgi!

Christina said...

O pbpbbffl! love chwistina