For a Pupil


Your eyes

hold no questions


They used to be

endless wells

of curiosity

and petulance.

I could never satisfy

your hunger for understanding,

it was as if

you were birthed

to know the world.


You travelled in its pages,

haunted the long halls

of new museums

and old book stores.

Never missed an opportunity

to beg a question

of some Old Timer

and pay for their coffee.


These days

it’s as if

all that fluid courage

that spurred you on

your quest to illuminate

your ignorance,

has hardened

into a wall

from which you pitch

your derision.


When did you decide

that the world

was no longer worthy

of investigation,

but instead

only a target

for the fusillade of your judgement?

At what point

did you decide

that you knew enough

to put all mankind

on the balances

and mete your share?


Your eyes,

now hard

and indignant.

I wish I were the Sun,

that I could warm you

and melt your heart,

and get you to remove

that coat of armor

that you now hide in.


you think I am

the cold East Wind,

coming in to freeze you out

and I can’t seem

to debase you

of that notion.


Hear you are,

approaching winter,

and you discontent

only grows

as you become more miserable.

Surrounded by surrogates,

who feed you a thin gruel

of hatred and distrust.


who walked amongst

the giants of history,

have turned them down,

only to live

amongst the rubble

you leave in your wake.


Of all the things you might have learned

out there in the world,

it seems,

you never learned


but you will.



HG – 2021

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