Like so many things
I’ve sheepishly forgotten, I don’t remember
Talking to myself when I was too young
To go to school, like a lot of kids did or still
Do, like our granddaughter did
And still does
When she thinks she's alone and begins
Reeling off adventure after adventure
Full of unreal characters known
Only to her, and me
Eavesdropping in on the hope
I can pick up on that priceless,
Uplifting gem of a germ
She’s so infected with,
Though I suspect all too well
It’s no longer catching—
Have I wasted my life?
I’ve sheepishly forgotten, I don’t remember
Talking to myself when I was too young
To go to school, like a lot of kids did or still
Do, like our granddaughter did
And still does
When she thinks she's alone and begins
Reeling off adventure after adventure
Full of unreal characters known
Only to her, and me
Eavesdropping in on the hope
I can pick up on that priceless,
Uplifting gem of a germ
She’s so infected with,
Though I suspect all too well
It’s no longer catching—
Have I wasted my life?
A beautiful, moving, finely-tuned poem that is a tribute to spirit and imagination and hope, as well as to a specific loved granddaughter and a superb poem by James Wright. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mr. Levy, for answering my ingenuous question so artfully!
ReplyDelete