[lit-ideas] Re: Sunday Poem
- From: David Ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 03 Jul 2005 01:11:12 -0700
I'd like to know what happened to the oak box that used to sit on the piano.
It smelled of church. This is because it was made of a beam which had
served as a straker in a naval sailing ship, and then was recycled to
support the roof of some small chapel, before being turned and made into a
vessel. I used to sniff it when I wanted to recall how English churches
smell. One quick whiff, I'd be wafted.
I met god once, you know. Surfing a kayak off the coast of Cornwall, I
started rides further out than the board guys and thundering through their
take-off point. Suddenly, there he was, walking on water, unavoidable. I
rolled to avoid him but BOOM, my boat hit his board, nose on, full force.
I paddled back, profuse in my apologies.
"Call me Charlie," he said. "I am the Lord thy... etc," the full paragraph.
He gave it plenty, floating gently, swelling like a hymn.
David Ritchie
Portland, Oregon
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