Friday, March 20, 2009

My Little One
By Tennessee Williams

My little one whose tongue is dumb,
whose fingers cannot hold to things,
who is so mercilessly young,
he leaps upon the instant things,

I hold him not. Indeed, who could?
He runs into the burning wood.
Follow, follow if you can!
He will come out grown to a man

and not remember whom he kissed,
who caught him by the slender wrist
and bound him by a tender yoke
which, understanding not, he broke.

2 comments:

Through the Looking Glass said...

Tender, really. I love this and it speaks to me; I also love Tennessee Williams.
Seriously, why didn't we hang out when I lived two houses away from you? Perhaps you are too cool for me, Cali girl. I'll work on my cool factor for when I see you next...

Kelly said...

Time to update please