The Pay of Small Things
Cooley, Peter
The Day of Small Things opens on my window as it unveiled itself to a small boy fifty years back leaving his sleep. This is the solitude so absolute each pear on the pear tree in the backyard is...
...Nothing today will need embodiment in language until I meet a living soul who will replace those residing among headstones of the grass thrown open, the squirrel's second coming, the worm risen again to answer prayers...
...This is the solitude so absolute each pear on the pear tree in the backyard is a tree, each mockingbird a separate melody every trill released here, each cloud releasing light by gradual delays, then spooling it back, day, night, day in measured syncopation...
...Peter Cooley Commonweal 16 September 28,2001...
...This is the world remembered before words, before the world is taken from the child and, broken on the wheel of language, he goes on talking...
Vol. 128 • September 2001 • No. 16
