this afternoon,
as I looked at the
piles of old photographs
that were stacked on my desk,
amid cellophane envelopes
of all shapes and sizes
from which the
stacks of photographs
had come, after
spending a couple
of hours with mom
trying to figure
out who each glowing face
in each curlicued frame
might have been
in 1910, 1920, or 1945,
I saw with utter distinction
and clarity, stenciled upon
one of those cellophane
envelopes, a portrait of
paul newman as rudolph
the reindeer. I stared at it
until I was sure that it would not
simply just disappear and, my
day having been utterly made,
i went about the movements
of the rest of the evening
until i fell then sound asleep,
just like always
on the steps of
what will of course be
an even more enlightening
in 1910, 1920, or 1945,
I saw with utter distinction
and clarity, stenciled upon
one of those cellophane
envelopes, a portrait of
paul newman as rudolph
the reindeer. I stared at it
until I was sure that it would not
simply just disappear and, my
day having been utterly made,
i went about the movements
of the rest of the evening
until i fell then sound asleep,
just like always
on the steps of
what will of course be
an even more enlightening
adventure tomorrow.
