Stanley Kunitz has died, one of my favorite poets. On July 30, 2005 on his birthday, when he turned 100, I shared one of his poems with you, The Portrait. Please take a look at this wonderful poem by Stanley Kunitz:
Halley's Comet
Miss Murphy in first grade
wrote its name in chalk
across the board and told us
it was roaring down the stormtracks
of the Milky Way at frightful speed
and if it wandered off its course
and smashed into the earth
there'd be no school tomorrow.
A red-bearded preacher from the hills
with a wild look in his eyes
stood in the public square
at the playground's edge
proclaiming he was sent by God
to save every one of us,
even the little children.
"Repent, ye sinners!" he shouted,
waving his hand-lettered sign.
At supper I felt sad to think
that it was probably
the last meal I'd share
with my mother and my sisters;
but I felt excited too
and scarcely touched my plate.
So mother scolded me
and sent me early to my room.
The whole family's asleep
except for me. They never heard me steal
into the stairwell hall and climb
the ladder to the fresh night air.
Look for me, Father, on the roof
of the red brick building
at the foot of Green Street—
that's where we live, you know, on the top floor.
I'm the boy in the white flannel gown
sprawled on this coarse gravel bed
searching the starry sky,
waiting for the world to end.
Most of the things people predict don't come true, but isn't there a fascination with the possible. That's why we watch the news about hurricanes and the earthquake predictions and why we go to NASCAR races. Many people are focused on the year 2012 as the End Date. The boy in the white flannel gown is in all of us.
