WATER FOR THE PIGS

It was so much easier to dip
the bucket into the muddy stream
than to carry it all the way from
the faucet. So I did. Every time.
Until the afternoon my brother
saw me do it. "Just because they
roll in the mud doesn't mean
they want to drink dirty water,"
he said. Easier, I learned,
isn't necessarily better.

PUZZLE

What I still don't get is where
that "love your enemies, bless
them that curse you, do good
to them that hate you" came
from. Devout Jew that he was,
fond of quoting scripture, he
couldn't cite chapter and verse
for it (and not just because
there were no chapters or verses)
and Ghandi wasn't going to show
up for another nineteen centuries.
It's surprising that anybody even
remembered it and that someone
later wrote it down. It must have
struck his listeners as preposterous,
unthinkable. Which is maybe why
that of the millions who identify
themselves as his followers,
only a figurative handful
attempt to take it seriously.

SCHOOL DAYS

Mostly what I remember isn't what
Mrs. Loechner tried to teach us.
What sticks instead are departures
from the routine, like the day someone
threw a rock at the outhouse, missed,
and hit Danny Rambler's head.
Blood oozed through his fingers
while he tried not to cry. Or when,
one day at recess, Henry Cassel, furious
over a perceived injustice, gathered
several of us boys in a huddle
and vowed a solemn vow to return
on whatever future day the schoolhouse
would be demolished and "help tear
this damn place down." (I'd thought only
grownups were allowed to say damn.)
Then there was the time Dale Shelly,
his face green, was standing up front,
reciting the two times table. He got
as far as "two times four is . . ." then
heaved his breakfast on the kid
sitting at his desk in the front row.
"O Dale," the teacher said.
I don't remember what Dale said.

THE BALL

It can be small and hard,
spherical or oblong.
It might be air-filled.
You may carry it or toss it
or bounce it or kick it
or hit it with a hand-held tool.
Regardless, you must exert
great effort to move it
in a particular direction
while your opponent may strive
with equal expense of energy
to reverse its movement or
at least to arrest its motion.

When you are young, you may
find yourself caring passionately
about its location at certain times,
whether you are actively engaged
in moving it or merely watching
others attempting to do so.

When you get older, it won't
seem quite so important.

HOUSEMATE

The house is quiet this early.
A mouse steps out behind the bookcase,
looks up at me, then slips
around the corner. He has things to do
and must do them.
That much, at least, we have in common.

MISCALCULATION

There was that day she and I
walked in the woods on Mt. Tabor
and came to the place where
the path divided. She or I
(I forget who) began to chant
the Frost lines and the other
joined in which led to
lively, funny debate on
whether he was being serious
or just playful about
that-has-made-all-the-difference.

It was at that moment, I think,
I believed we would always
be together, taking walks
and laughing, or maybe it was
the day we went swimming.

That kind of thing happens
when you are young.

INFORMATION AGE

The book says there are several
possible purposes for communication,
"to inform" being the primary purpose.
Art is different. Its purpose is
to uncover
to discover
to explore
what is unknown and perhaps unknowable.

Take poetry for instance
and, come to think of it, take preaching.
When I listen to a sermon
I don't want to be informed.
I want to be changed.
That can't happen unless
it has happened to the preacher.
I can tell.