All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
The tweed of the old man’s cap slung
So far forward as to strike him blind;
And all around him goes a hustle-and-a-bustle,
Where an ear opens a vision as tuned as
A bloodhound’s snout on the hunt.
“Olives!” and “Oils!” amongst “Weavings!”
Dealers; hagglers; I-want-more-ers.
Buyers to sellers, and stealers from beggars:
A miscellany of greens and yellows and plaids and stripes and clays and hemps.
Ay! How a newcomer’s whole-ness suffers from the tones all about.
Now see how the tweed-capped old man perches:
As the blackbird on the thinnest of twigs above.
Resting on his knobbly knees lies a stringed
carving of maple,
With a gently strummed chord flowing free
Singing as the blackbird does – for granted.
But the old man takes no heave or smoke,
as passersby may note;
For the wind is his breath, working unknown mysteries without a gloat.