To the Unknown Helper

Unknown-but not uncaring-I admit
The sort of person that’s seen from a train,
A nightingale in a hospital that’s unlit,
Who bears a taper to drive away pain.
None of my old nonsense will I give you
(Not with that damn you me lad look in eye)
It’s time to cowboy up, and now be true
To broken vows and the wrack with a sigh.
There’s only so much time after all
And not much left to be unsaid and said-
The thing is, you are so straight and tall
A strong tree, who lays her hand on her head.
Your hand belongs on the child’s lovely hair
Don’t mind my dying, leave, oh leave it there.

Image drawn and sonnet written in a dai pan dong in Sheung Wan 25 June 2010 while listening to Mvt 5B (6) of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony #3: Langsam: Ruhevoll: Empfunden (if you click the orange link the music will start in a separate window and you can come back here if you like).

To Candice and James


One Response to “To the Unknown Helper”

  1. spinoza1111 Says:

    This was drawn written in June 2010 when I took a “staycation” and didn’t go to Paris, but instead walked down to the place where the turtles breed and saw white flowers and black butterflies. It just kind of hit me in a cafe in Sheung Wan.

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