Wedding Song

Wedding Song You learn what is the stars, the sea, light before you can say morning. Time goes funny in your hands. You watch the banana tree keep its leaves. After yellow fruit, has to be let down. Each lashed leaf cries to the hillside almond, olive, and pine, trees that go on into the next century. In the town square, two steps behind the mongoloid child, the father walks. He dreams the child away from him, goes alone upon the promenade of palms, the balcon under his feet, the sure sea, beyond, beating out something— a dirty tune on black, sharp rock— for a wrong child made under no moon she called to him that night hold just so high, o moon so right for love. ARTHUR OBERG Arthur Oberg (Associate Professor of English at the University of Washington) has written a critical study of the lyric poetry of Lowell, Berryman, Creeley, and Plath, which will be published by Rutgers University Press in 1976. ...