A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
I remember sitting on the sofa in my grandparent’s house–my day care center–watching television with my grandfather. He spent most of his life on the couch after an accident on the job. He recovered from the accident but continued to sit. I had no father and was absorbing whatever maleness was around. Later in life, I realized I had my grandfather’s laugh, and now, at 76, with the requisite muscle and joint stiffness, I’ve begun to move like him. When I catch myself doing this I immediately rebel and start prancing like a young man.
Copyright 2020 Doug Anderson