My left eye is blind and jogs like a milky sparrow in its socket; my nose is large and never flares in anger, the front teeth, bucked, but not in lechery -- I sucked my thumb until the age of twelve. O my youth was happy and I was never lonely though my friends called me "pig eye" and the teachers thought me loony. (When I bruised, my psyche kept intact: I fell from horses, and once a cow but never pigs -- a neighbor lost a hand to a sow.) But I had some fears: the salesman of eyes, his case was full of fishy baubles, against black velvet, jeweled gore, the great cocked hoof of a Belgian mare, a nest of milk snakes by the water trough, electric fences, my uncle's hounds, the pump arm of an oil well, the chop and whir of a combine in the sun. From my ancestors, the Swedes, I suppose I inherit the love of rainy woods, kegs of herring and neat whiskey -- I remember long nights of pinochle, the bulge of Redman in my grandpa's cheek; the rug smelled of manure and kerosene. They laughed loudly and didn't speak for days. (But on the other side, from the German Mennonites, their rag-smoke prayers and porky daughters I got intolerance, and aimless diligence.) In '51 during a revival I was saved: I prayed on a cold register for hours and woke up lame. I was baptized by immersion in the tank at Williamston -- the rusty water stung my eyes. I left off the old things of the flesh but not for long -- one night beside a pond she dried my feet with her yellow hair. O actual event dead quotient cross become green I still love Jubal but pity Hagar. (Now self is the first sacrament who loves not the misery and taint of the present tense is lost. I strain for a lunar arrogance. Light macerates the lamp infects warmth, more warmth, I cry.) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO POEMS TO HANS THOMA ON HIS SIXIETH BIRTHDAY: 1. MOONLIGHT NIGHT by RAINER MARIA RILKE FROM THE ANTIQUE (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI FOR A CHILD: 1. WALKING SONG by CHARLES WILLIAMS BUILDING BLOCKS by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON |