Vassar
Here, at this college I did not attend, wisdom in friendship walks the quad arched by a giant sycamore and Dodona’s oaks. Few leaves now cling to any branches, though if green songs fluttered in green air the giant sycamore’s giant arm would by its perpendicular power show that strength of mind, like Truth, endures vicissitude with help from the heart, as cables in lines like cobwebs assist its mighty perpendicular reach. Have I not climbed along its outstretched arm before today, just as I do now, shinnying my body out to its fingertips which hold me over the lawns and paths and out beyond the quad, beyond Raymond Avenue, beyond the banks of the Hudson, where I flow down to my renowned uncle’s Sunnyside and thence to kind and cruel Atlantic crests? Here, at this college I did not attend, I climb along branches of mind I learned in the there of my Kenyon past and feel, through the angled light breaking into Adam’s Main Building room, that there and here are somehow one invisibly cobwebbed space, if space at all, as my walk along the sycamore’s great arm is now and then beyond the reach of what we like to say is time but know cannot be told or shaped or rhymed. John Kryder Poems |