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Driving on a country road

"Love would be safe in his own storm…
Do you suppose that storm can ever touch the Fool?"
Charles Williams, The Greater Trumps, pp. 127, 139

I find
the turkeys again,
on a
narrow lane
through the pasture--
and they are there,
meandering--
there is no other
word--
across the road,
up over
the snow bank.
I slow down.
They stop
and stretch
long necks
up to have a look
at me,
and I at them.
The males
have a strange
beard
tufting out
mid-chest
like a shock
of unruly hair
gone awry,
growing out
a hole
in an old
sweater--
red wattles
jangle
from their chins
as if a
loosely tied
party hat
had slipped around
the face--
I am mesmerized
at the majesty
and the comedy--
like Williams'
Greater Trumps--
the Fool divine.

8 Mar 03


© Copyright 2003, E. Granger-Happ, All Rights Reserved.

Contents - Lent, 2003




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Document last modified on: 03/20/2004

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