MY
SCIENCE
Not being tentative has its
benefits;
stern to a fault and righteous about
that.
Amble with me past the place of this
grange:
See the miniature sailboat, as the boy
sails
it along the pond, while above him
shimmer
the skyscrapers of an egregious city
unknown
yet to his inner life. There will be time
for all that.
Right now, and more importantly, he
watches
the sails as they shimmer in the breeze.
Nothing
vast or untoward, just a gentle afternoon
move.
-
It is like that everywhere : I know his
mother and
I know his dad - they are both absentee
now, and
the boy here lives with his aunt and uncle.
By degrees,
he is learning what this is all about. His
Science is yet
indwelling, learning of pride of place and
self and doing.
There really is no place for sadness on the
glass of water.
-
For myself, these tired experiments are
nearly over and
the lines of my Science are spent and done,
ready for
erasure. Well, nearly anyway. I do hope
yet, insist, on
a few more odd equations chalked up on the
board,
things no one else can figure out, things
I'll be the
one, alone, to know the key for and the
answer.
-
That is my hope : this life still engrains
an expectation
even beneath my very tired skin and
eyes.
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