on 15/3/02 4:36 pm, Arthur at [log in to unmask] wrote:


Arthur, I think this would work as a poem if you simply took the answers and
left out the questions. The layout I found distracting, too, but as I
prepare this reply I see the layout has corrected itself to left margin
throughout.

This echoes a poem but I can't place it,that sense of a loose pigeon flying
round in your memory looking for its nesting box. Which poem has something
like

Did he speak?

Did he...

It will be...

I know, it 's something by Stevie Smith.
Was he married? Did he grow....
that's what it made me think of.

Sally Evans

> Catechism
>
> Did he come?
> Yes, he came.
> When did he come?
> One morning, early in spring.
> Did he speak?
> At first  he just stood,
> looking out of the window, watching the morning,
> but then, later, he spoke at some length,
> quietly.
> What did his voice sound like?
> Like bells at evensong, sad and distant.
> What did he look like?
> A shadow, a shape, a silhouette,
> slender against the spring light.
> Did he smile?
> Oh yes, sweet and plump as an orange, he smiled,
> but only the once
> and it shone like a fish leaping in sunlight.
> Why did he smile?
> Something I asked him.
> What did you ask?
> The cost of loving?
> What was his answer?
> The smile.
> What did he talk about?
> He asked after you
> and talked of troubles
> Troubles?
> The pain of living
> the drug of dreams,
> the struggle between is and seems.
> Anything else?
> The curse of gravity
> the press and passage of the years
> laughter, friends and  tears.
> Did he leave a message?
> He said he would wait but not to hurry,
> there was plenty of time yet.
> When did he leave?
> It was night, very late.
> The last owl swooped,
> soft as whispers of love.
> I wish I had been there.
> He said you would say that.