"In [my uncle Manny's] house ... something good was always coming up, and not just good but fantastic, transforming, triumphant ... his unpredictable manipulations of fact freed my mind to lope and skip among fantasies of my own, but always underneath was the river of his sadness." Arthur Miller
- Carl Dennis,
- "Above all houses in our town
- I've always loved this blue one you own
- With its round turret and big bay window.
- Do you dream about it the way I do?
- Wouldn't you be just as happy
- On a street with more trees
- In a larger house, whose columned porch
- Impresses every passer-by?
- Does it seem fair that you've won the right
- To gaze from these windows your whole life
- Merely because you saw them first,
- And consign me to a life of envy?"
Maybe her patience this morning at the pond
Was another good sign,
The way she waited for the frog to croak again
So she could find its hiding place and admire it.
There it was, in the reeds, to any casual passerby
Only a fist-sized speckled stone.
All the way home she wondered out loud
What kind of enemies a frog must have
To make it live so hidden, so disguised.
Whatever enemies follow her when she's grown,
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