Monday, April 16, 2012

3581. HALLABY

HALLABY
When I was a young boy, my God
was Hallaby  -  as was taught to me.
Lord's Prayer, all that stuff : 'Our Father,
who are in Heaven, Hallaby, thy name.'
Worked for me, all the same.
-
Then one day, it seemed, Hallaby had just
left. Oh, occasional sightings I'd see from
afar  -  throwing orbits into planets and
stars, this Hallaby. Distant and dark,
standing pat and then gone.
-
The loose sliver of a moon darting
down, slinking away  -  things meant
for but a measure of moment alone,
nothing so grave or awesome to kill.
I found, it seemed, wherever located
this Hallaby was, it was just biding
time. I looked askance, then, at all
those rules and rites - and this time,
just as well, passed me by, which
by me was quite fine. And today,
I am happy with nothing at all.

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