I like this very much, Ken, it's so amazing where poetry comes from with its
signs, its "quivering with knowing" and lets slip what slips from bonds and
bounds, such a great dog, that greyhound once its loosed, well, many thanks for
this too, much felt in my cells,
best,
Rebecca
---- Original message ----
>Date: Wed, 16 Feb 2005 14:23:20 -0500
>From: Ken Wolman <[log in to unmask]>
>Subject: Snapshot/"The Field"
>To: [log in to unmask]
>
>Curiously, I thought of writing this even before I saw Max's dog poem
>this morning. Signs, anyone?
>
>THE FIELD
>(for Ginny's Beckett, 1990-2002)
>
>Last night,
>waiting for sleep,
>you came to me,
>and I saw you as I never did,
>a greyhound loosed
>to race across a field,
>quivering with knowing
>your owner heard your inner call
>to let slip the dog of peace,
>to cut your bonds, your bounds,
>to come now past your life
>perhaps for me,
>to show me joy.
>
>Ken/2-16-05
>
>--
>Kenneth Wolman
>Proposal Development Department
>Room SW334
>Sarnoff Corporation
>609-734-2538
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