in PDF File - The International Raoul Wallenberg Foundation

02-05 Partners of Hope 1/30/07 10:43 AM Page 6
I have seen the pageantry.
I have seen the haggard leaves falling.
One by one falling.
“The Milkman”
The milkman walks with mysterious movements,
Translating will to energy—
To the crunch of his feet on crystalline water—
While the bad angels mutter.
A white ghost in an opaque body
Passing slowly over the snow,
And a telltale fume on the frozen air
To spite the princes of terror.
One night they will knock on the milkman’s door,
Their boots crunch hard on the front-porch floor.
One-two, open the door.
You are the thief of the secret flame,
The forbidden bread, the terrible Name.
Return what is left; go back where you came.
One-two, the slam of the door.
A woman crying: Who is there?
And voices mumbling beyond the stair.
Is there a fume in the frozen sky
To spell that someone has been by,
Under the sun and over the snow?
“Shoeless Joe Jackson” [excerpt]
Shoeless Joe Jackson once played ball
In his stocking feet near the centerfield wall.
Home Run Baker was at the plate,
Swinging his bat like a well-oiled gate.
Some can’t hit a something with a paddle
But Baker was mean and rarin’ for battle.
Home Run swung from the back of his heel
And lifted the ball toward centerfield.
The sun shone down on Shoeless’ eyeball
As he tried to judge that difficult high ball.
It went through the hands of Shoeless Joe
And fell plumb sprang upon his toe.