John Moncure Wetterau

“ Like beautiful fish moving slowly through coral, they eddy through the library, dark hair, bright dark eyes, the wisdom of their mothers lying gravely on their faces; ready to love, to stay, they flick away on currents deep and proper. ”

“ I think of you drinking, dancing, unable to sleep, reading until first light, a blanket drawn around your shoulders, afternoons, working your wheel until the time to mingle with true hearts, raise glasses, hug, laugh, help as you can. We are all dying, slower or faster, but it hurts to watch. ”

“ We've gone wrong, too big to find our way by song, light falling on a face and handkerchief, illumination in the manner of Rembrandt.
Peter's Answer
Little Blue Heron, young, still white, by the north causeway bridge— stick legs, too thin for the swelling body, the visual weight of feathers, stepping slowly in shallow water, long toes trailing limply, then extending, three splayed forward, one back. Brilliant neck curving, poised. Dagger beak the same gray as legs and toes. Why is nature beautiful? ”

“ Icons, coal mines, Ten Mile Creek, the Monongahela, a long way to this house by the Kennebec, sitting erect, brushing your hair, fire and peace in your cheeks, preparing for the further steppes of feeling.
Back In Town
Billy Frailly's got a new shirt, shaved and walking down the road ready for anything. When I was in fifth grade Billy powered his bike up Church Hill (black Stetson, yellow kerchief) . I helped him shovel out Mrs. Cowell's parking place. He did most of the work, but he split the money fifty-fifty. He's an outcast now; no frontier he can reach. ”