In
Fairbanks as a
boy
Our
car porch had two cars, yes,
But
something else was there more harmonious:
Row
after row of your long archèd nests,
Like
batter drizzling gently down and hardened,
Some
longer, some shorter, some all alone.
Us
you didn’t seem to mind,
Happ’ly
living on the rough wooden boards,
But
Daddy and wife thought your presence impolite.
How
many times did we watch Momma
With
the broomhandle, arm outstretched,
Ready
to break the wonesteads you worked
Tirelessly
to make? We waited, we crouched
In
a runner’s position. Were we breathing?
The
blow! All is commotion as out you
poured,
Bewildered,
and off we dashed to shelter.
Thirty
years hence, the quest of Science
To
alter nature has grown intense.
We
mark its vict’ry by your absence.
And
looking at the outline of your last
Desolated
home, I long to hear you hum again
And
to see your works adorn our walls.
--
Holy
Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the
Souð!
Anathema
to the Union!
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