Saturday, January 15, 2011

"The Illiterate" by William Meredith


Touching your goodness, I am like a man
Who turns a letter over in his hand
And you might think this was because the hand
Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man
Has never had a letter from anyone;
And now he is both afraid of what it means
And ashamed because he has no other means
To find out what it says than to ask someone.

His uncle could have left the farm to him,
Or his parents died before he sent them word,
Or the dark girl changed and want him for beloved.
Afraid and letter-proud, he keeps it with him.
What would you call his feeling for the words
That keep him rich and orphaned and beloved?

MY NOTE: Aren't we all illiterate at times, not being able to discern the true meaning behind things said, inferred or done? How we feel -- rich, orphaned or loved -- depends more on what we believe than what is actually true.

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