| September 16, 1984
Dear Don,
I am now trying to get together a batch
of poems for Joey. Will you let me know
whether you think this one is ready for
the batch?
The past 2-3 weeks have been taken over
by course preparation for Dartmouth (I
start Monday). I’m hoping that by
spending so much time before the term starts,
I’ll be able to create room for writing.
I know I’ll have more time this term
than I would normally have at CSC.
Will soon know how much more!
Love,
Wes
PERLEY HUNT WALKING
Perley Hunt is off
balance. Each day
the part of him
that is no longer
afraid to fall, and the part
of him that is,
argue all the way
to the mail.
People who come out
of the postoffice see
him walking,
by almost falling down
on one side
and on the alternate
other, holding aloft
the bony wing
of his cane,
and in this moment
not one thinks
of his bad luck
or of the lucky life
he might have had.
None thinks of any life
beyond these hands
slowly passing a cane
back and forth,
this miracle of walking
on the undulant earth. |
