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September Sunday, 1976: To Lady PostScript, 4
[the reader is respectfully asked to read the notation at the bottom of part 1]
The freshman poet has been quite content
with such reality as he has known,
despite pompous professors' questionings.
But as she glides, barefoot, through startled fields
of vision---his and his friends', there for lunch---
she takes upon herself the aspect of
a Muse. Nothing in his remembrance of
his home or his high school, just south of town,
prepared him for the beauty she presents,
and the desire she has awakened in
him as he swallows hard. Words start to dance
(some visionary and some cloudy in
his mind) seeking their consummation in
melodious lines of a major poem
beyond his capabilities right now.
