And that murderer time.
Sometimes who finally takes our lives, come what may.
Sometimes when we reach a great age--
and you young people will have to think of your grandparents,
as I think of my parents, when I write this way--
this time, sometimes, takes away so much from the body
that one loses one's pleasure in being alive in the world.
And that's what the next poem I'm going to read to you
is about.
I wanted the poem--
when I tried to write the poem, I
tried to write it so that it was both funny, and tragic,
and sad, and hopeful.
So any reaction you have to the poem
is appropriate to my intentions.
It's metered very roughly, and it's rhymed,
but you won't hear the rhymes because I
tucked the rhymes into the middle of phrases and clauses.
And I'm going to read my sentences
so that you can get the colloquial quality
of the father's voice.
You may hear a rhyme or two, but it's rhymed very regularly
all the way through.
The poem is written in six letters.
And then at the end of the sixth letter,
I'll pause very briefly.
And the last line of the poem, all of which,
so far, has come to you and the voice of the father,
his letters, after the brief pause, the very
last line of the poem will come to you
in the voice of the poet.
I hope I can make that transition clear to you.
This is called "Letters From a Father."
"One.
Ulcerated tooth keeps me awake.
There's such pain.
Would have to go to the hospital to have it
pulled, or would bleed to death from the blood thinners.
But can't leave mother.
She falls and forgets her salve and her tranquilizer.
Her ankles swell so, and her bowels are so bad.
She almost had a stoppage.
And sometimes what she passes is green as grass.
There are big holes in my thigh where my leg brace buckles
the size of dimes.
My head pounds from the high pressure.
It is awful not to be able to get out.
And I fell in the bathroom, and the girl
could hardly get me up at all.
Sure thought my back was broken.
It will be next time.
Prostate is bad, and heart has given out.
Feel bloated after supper.
Have made my peace because I'm just plain done for
and have no doubt that the Lord will
come any day with my release.
You say you enjoy your feeder.
I don't see why you want to spend
good money on grain for birds.
And you say you have 100 sparrows.
I'd buy poison and get rid of their diseases and turds.
Two.
We enjoyed your visit.
It was nice of you to bring the feeder,
but a terrible waste of your money for that big bag of feed,
since we won't be living for more than a few weeks longer.
We can see them good from where we
sit, big ones and little ones.
But you know, when I farmed, I used to like to hunt.
And we had many a good meal from pigeons, and quail,
and pheasant.
But these birds won't be good for nothing,
and they're dirty to have so near the house.
Mother likes the red birds, though.
My bad knee is so sore, and I can't hardly hear.
And Mother says she is hoarse from yelling,
but I know it's too late for a hearing aid.
I belch up all the time and have a sour mouth.
And of course, with my heart, it's no use to go to a doctor.
Mother is the same.
Has a scab she thinks is going to turn to a wart.
Three.
The birds are eating and fighting.
Ha ha.
All shapes, and colors, and sizes coming out of our woods,
but we don't know what they are.
Your mother hopes you can send us a kind of book that
tells about birds.
There's one bird the folks called snowbirds
that eat on the ground.
We had the girl sprinkle extra there.
But say they eat something awful.
I sent the girl to town to buy some more feed.
She had to go anyway.
Four.
Almost called you on the telephone,
but it costs so much to call, thought better right.
Say, the funniest thing is happening.
One day we had so many birds, and they fight and get excited
at their feed, you know, and it's really something to watch.
And two or three flew right at us,
and crashed into our window, and bang--
poor little things knocked themselves silly.
They come to after a while on the ground and flew away,
and they've been doing that.
We felt awful and didn't know what to do.
But the other day, a lady from our church drove out to call.
And a little bird knocked herself out while she sat.
And she brought it in her hands right into the house.
It looked like dead.
It had a kind of hat of feathers sticking up on its head,
kind of rose or pinky color.
Don't know what it was.
And I petted it, and it come to life right there in her hands.
And she took it out, and it flew.
She says they think the window is the sky on a fair day.
She feeds birds too but hasn't got so many.
She says to hang strips of aluminum foil in the window,
so we'll do that.
She raved about our birds.
PS-- the book just come in the mail.
Five.
Say, that book is sure good.
I study in it every day and enjoy our birds.
Some of them I can't identify for sure.
I guess they're females.
The Latin words I just skip over.
I bet you'd never guess the sparrows I've got here.
House sparrows, you wrote.
But I have fox sparrows, song sparrows, vesper sparrows,
pine woods, and tree, and chipping, and white-throat,
and white-crowned sparrows.
I have six cardinals-- three pairs.
They come at early morning and night, the males at the feeder,
and on the ground, the females.
Juncos-- may be 25.
They fight for the ground.
That's what they used to call snow birds.
I miss the bluebirds since the weather warmed.
Their breast is the color of a good, ripe muskmelon.
Tufted titmouse is sort of blue with a little, tiny crest.
And I have flicker, and red-bellied, and red-headed
woodpeckers.
You would die laughing to see red-bellied.
He hangs on with his head flat on the board, his tail braced
up under, wing out.
And dickcissil, and ruby-crowned kinglet,
and nuthatch stands on his head.
And veery on top, the color of a bird dog.
And hermit thrush with spot on breast.
Blue jay's so funny.
He will hop right on the backs of the other birds
to get the grain.
We bought some sunflower seeds just for him.
And purple finch, I bet you never seen.
Color of a watermelon.
Sits on the rim of the feeder with his streaky wife.
And the squirrels, you know, they are cute too.
They sit tall and eat with their little hands.
They eat bucketsful.
I pulled my own tooth.
It didn't bleed at all.
Six.
It's sure a surprise how well mother is doing.
She forgets her laxative, but bowels move fine.
Now that the windows are open, she
says our birds sing all day.
The girl took a book of knowledge
on loan from the library, and I am reading up
on the habits of birds.
Did you know some males have three wives?
Some migrate, some don't?
I'm going to keep feeding all spring, maybe summer.
You can see they expect it.
We'll need thistle seed for goldfinch and pine siskin
next winter.
Some folks are going to come see us
from church, some bird watchers, pretty soon.
They have birds in town, but nothing to equal this.
So the world woos its children back for an evening kiss."
[APPLAUSE]