Classic Poem

The word “History” … Consider it:
Alone and at one stroke and
that one but a-syllable-
wide-of-a-whisper it
confers order on the entirety
of recorded Time or
any segment thereof, as

in a handsbreadth of rearview mirror
the receding roadscapes coil
into compositions each
exquisitely balanced by
some bias for bi-lateral sym-
metry in our bones. We look back
at images already fixed,
miniaturized and diminishing:
Periclean Age, Medieval
England, Cathay, the War
of the Rebellion—even
the History-of-the-World. We see
Beginnings, Middles, Ends,
Cause and Effect—A pleasant
exercise, when or if
Time would allow. However,

crouched at our windshields,
in overdrive, we ourselves dwindle
from every certainty. CAUTION
CAUTION the signs cry . . . .
HISTORY IS REAL ONLY
WHILE IT'S HAPPENING.











By permission of the author.