September 23: A Little Old, Paul Muldoon, "Wind and Tree"

I'm feeling a little old today for some reason.  Tired.  A little sore.  Like I could sit on my couch and sleep for about three or four hours.

Of course, I can't do that.  My daughter has a school thing this morning.  I have schoolwork to do, planning for next week.  I'm going to clean my house this afternoon.  Play the organ for Mass at 4:30 p.m.  Then, I may go home and collapse.

Just typing all that made me feel old.  Gone are the Saturdays where my main worry was whether Bugs Bunny was on TV.  When the hours stretched out full of possibility.  When one of the most exciting things was a trip to the library to see what new books had arrived. 

Nowadays, Saint Marty's Saturdays are pretty much planned out before he even gets up in the morning.

Wind and Tree

by:  Paul Muldoon

In the way that most of the wind
Happens where there are trees,
Most of the world is centred
About ourselves.
Often where the wind has gathered
The trees together and together,
One tree will take
Another in her arms and hold.
Their branches that are grinding
Madly together and together,
It is no real fire.
They are breaking each other.
Often I think I should be like
The single tree, going nowhere,
Since my own arm cannot and will not
Break the other.  Yet by my broken bones
I tell new weather.