from this week in January, 1976 (I was 31)
The
Cow in the Road
Hello.
Welcome to your real life
(remember the other
the one with the golden
hair
the one on the rocks by the
sea
and the wind and the wave
that broke in trembling
tetrameter
o’er myriads of naiads
gamboling upon the shore)
All that’s given way to tap
dancing
up and down the stony steps
of Sproul Hall
and all kinds of other
groovy things
All that ended when the war
did
All the soldiers were
underground
waiting again to inhale the
smoke and breathe the fire
Then came who cares leading
up to now
and the ha ha of personal
commitment
sitting on its own lap on
our doorstep
saying its been there all
the while and somehow
that has to be the truth
and suddenly you know
you’ve been to the beach
again
and there’s an oh-oh from
the basement
and a rustling in the woodwork
and memories of the night
the bats were loose in the house
But then all those things
went by
not for everybody, but at
least for us
We didn’t know the beginning
though we kept on surviving
the end
and we will until one of us
fails to recognize the cow
in the road
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