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Peter S. Beagle: SONG FOR JAMES D. HOUSTON | 1933-2009


jameshouston James D. Houston


When I think of you,
in this year of death,
when the great sequoias of my youth
are snapping like saplings in a storm,
one by one,
the wise and the wild alike,
I think of your laughter,
head thrown back,
that laugh exploding
rolling out of your belly and your throat,
and your eyes,
wrinkling and squeezing shut,
with such surprise,
as though you had never heard such a joke,
such a riddle, such an epigram
in all your life, not ever.
And I would come away from your high house,
thinking, If Jim thinks I’m funny,
maybe I maybe am,
and I would laugh with you,
puzzled but grateful for my own apparent wit,
and for the gift of your laughter,
so grateful still,
hearing it yet, through the rising storm.

— Peter S. Beagle

© 2010 by Peter S. Beagle


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