There is something like two feet of snow here in Milwaukee and I'm trudging through this stuff in worn out Pumas. The holes in my souls leak salty melt-water all over my socks and my feet are cold all in class. Been posting all these touched up photos from warmer times in Tokyo. And also some cold ones from last year in Chicago. But nothing from right now. Funny how that works out.
I had to write an essay for class recently on a Seamus Heaney poem of my choice. I wrote it on The Wishing Tree.
I thought of her as the wishing tree that died
And saw it lifted, root and branch, to heaven,
Trailing a shower of all that had been driven
Need by need by need into its hale
Sap-wood and bark: coin and pin and nail
Came streaming from it like a comet-tail
New-minted and dissolved. I had a vision
Of an airy branch-head rising through damp cloud,
Of turned-up faces where the tree had stood.
My thesis came to me like a hallucinated flash in an opium dream. Thank you Mr. Heaney.
Back Alley Poetry