A LESSON FOR THIS SUNDAY ~BY DEREK WALCOTT
The growing idleness of summer grass
With its frail kites of furious butterflies
The growing idleness of summer grass
With its frail kites of furious butterflies
Once upon a time, son,
they used to laugh with their hearts
and laugh with their eyes:
There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
Your warm embrace
Like a cloak of freedom
Laid the sun in my arms
Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
A tiny brown triangle on the finger tip
Promises to explore distant lands on a trip
My first love killed herself,
Not in the way you think,
Not with a gun to her head,
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,