pink dawn, frozen river,
round hills that gleam with snow,
a pristine world I'm showing two
explorers before they go
on inland to the source, the source.
But - sun on leafy trees,
dog-thump on the dusty stairs:
we wake into our lives .
I'm taken aback each visit by
how stale these seem, how small,
as if with each new morning
we crawled into a hole.
Yes, any new day must shut doors
on vistas from last night,
but here the slam is ruthless .
H ardly a crack of light
survives each silent rising.
Separate, we brace ourselves.
The daily bandage settles
snugly over the house .
Stuart Dischell
HISTORY LESSONS
(Henry
Adams)
I sat on the side of the world
Trying to find my place .
The classroom globe spun on its axis :
New World, Old World, continents, nations , states.
I could almost see my house and street.
I thought, "This is what God sees when he looks down."
