Dear (Mom and Dad) Anne,
“My soul is among lions and I lie even among them that are set
on fire; even the sons of men whose teeth are spears an arrows
and their tongue a sharp sword.” Ps 57:4
8:09 Tues morning; its all wrong. Today at 7:30 I expected the guard to get me for transit. (The door opens: enter Glen. Disappointment.) Had just dozed briefly after the spike of syrup from the pancakes for breakfast. Discreetly I held myself, miserable, disconsolate, as the conclusion of (playwright) Athol Fugard’s “Statements after an Arrest Under the Immorality Act” told me in whispers this was the course I chose, that separation had some good purpose and that it would be okay not to say goodbye to Clyde. We each have hidden in our texts knowing how ideas matter. I whispered to myself that the new strangers would become familiar. Then Jackson swept the floor and said to somebody “Just as long as you keep your mind right, you’ll be fine.”
9 February, 2011
Dear Mom and Dad,
Your unfathomable support signifies God’s ever bounding deepening love.
Please, please type the writing to Anne at her e-mail. Thanks
A Poem by Alan Seeger Found pg 225-226
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue dogs and fair.
It may be that he will take me by the hand
And lead me to his dark land and close my eyes to his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath-
I may pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill
When Spring comes round again this year
And first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows ‘twere better to be deep a
Pillowed in silk and scented down
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep.
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath.
Where hushed awakenings are dear…
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death
At Midnight in some flaming town
When Spring trips north again this year
And I to my pledged word am true,/
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
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