Decades Later He Stands with his Son Staring at the Merry-Go-Round
The brilliant light of early joys, the joys
A child knows when the Christmas tree
Is found aflame on Christmas morn with toys
And glistening ribbons, wrappings, gifts is glee
Unknown in later life. When manly powers
Lead on to love and lust and shouting heights
On mountain tops of thrill stretched out for hours
On satin sheets with thrusts and shocking bites—
It isn’t wonder of the sun-like sort
He knew when all flashed sweet like Eden’s dew.
When playing with his cousins in a fort
Of cardboard, even that was clean sword new.
Back then all pleasures were uplifted, starved
Of nothing, like a horse’s head, white, carved.
