When Words Sneak Away

Those of you who dip into this blog now and then know that I like to memorize poems--it's fun to be able to reel off, oh, "The Road Not Taken" or "Casey at the Bat" when an occasion arises (though I must admit: Some people I know are not, uh, patient as I do so!).

But the Dark Side? I have to keep practicing them (as I've written about here before). And, lately, even when I do practice regularly, some words sneak away, hide, dare me to find them (with Google I usually can).

One of the poems I learned fairly recently was "Then Follows" by Laura Riding (1901-91). I cannot remember where I saw that poem--was it on Writer's Almanac? I just looked: doesn't seem to be a connection.

But I do remember that when I saw it; I liked it; I memorized it. Here it is--not long at all:

Then follows a description

Of an interval called death

By the living.

But I shall speak of it

As of a brief illness.

For it lasted only

From being not ill

To being not ill.

It came about by chance--

I met God.

"What," he said, "you already?"

"What," I said, "you still?"

Clever, Concise. I learned it fairly quickly. And now rehearse it a couple of times a week.

And then--just a few days ago--I became unsure about a key word in the poem (where did that sneaky guy go?). Was it discussion or description early in the poem?

I could not find it online (though I have to say I didn't exactly knock myself out looking for it). So I thought I would just order a cheap paperback collection of her verse; I did; it came--see pic at the top of this post.

I was a bit annoyed that the thick volume (nearly 500 pages) had no Index of First Lines: That meant I had to page through the (lengthy) Table of Contents--it took a little while.

And there it was: "Then Follows," p. 174.

I turned eagerly to the page, found it--and found something far more alarming: The lines I'd memorized were only the opening lines of a very lengthy poem--six-and-a-half pages!

No way I'm going to learn all that. (No way, probably, that I could learn all that!)

I did recover the word that had sneaked away (description), but I felt ... diminished somehow. I didn't know as much as I thought I did.

Which, of course, is a monster of a metaphor for my life--for all our lives.

Laura Riding

*** Addendum to yesterday's post about Robin Hood. I forgot to mention--HOW COULD I?--that my passion for Robin Hood transferred to the "stage" of the old Aurora Middle School where I began my teaching career. (The "stage" was the gym floor.) The third show I wrote with students and produced there was Robin Hood; or, The Man with the Green Robber Band in the spring of 1969, just months before I met Joyce. Brian Rumsey, I recall, was Robin--I don't remember much else about the show and would have to go digging through boxes in the basement to find more. And basements can be tricky ...