Love Is the Rider Who Breaks Us All

 

 

 

I was on my daily walk with my dog when he pulled hard to greed another dog. I always let him decide who he likes to meet.

It was an old dog, sitting at the feet of an old man sitting on a bench.

“Good morning” I said and introduced ourselves.

“It is always a good morning when I can still be out with Florence” he replied.

 

By now, Ziggy was gently licking Florence’s face.

 

“Lovely” the old man said, “reminds me of days when I was young and wild”

And we started chatting knowing that our dogs would not want us to pull them apart.

 

From his careful choice of words and the optimism that comes with age, I assumed he was well read. So I asked him what he once did.

“I taught literature, even when students did not want to learn.”

I told him I had many of these experiences.

“You like poetry?” he asked.

And when I shared my love for words, spoken or otherwise, he turned to Florence with a smile:

“Flo, go ahead and recite a few lines from Dylan Thomas.”

Then, with a pensive posture he added:

“She is busy with Ziggy, I will refresh your memory myself”

And, just after sunrise, sitting on a public bench in a cowboy town five-thousand feet above sea level, the old man nostalgically started:

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night

“I was wild once, you know. Now Flo is 15 years old and I am five times older than her. It is good to meet someone who likes poetry.”

… I thought about him during the one hour walk. And a bit about Flo. Then, after giving Ziggy his breakfast, I searched for a poem I had read by Ribka Sibhatu, a contemporary Italian poet, entitled Parola.

The last stanza is my favorite

Parla parole ce

emanano profumo

e portano l’animo

nel tempo e nello spazio.   

 

(Speak words

that emit a fragrance

and carry the soul

through time and through space)

 

I hope to see the old man again.

About the photo: I took this in Barcelona. It seemed unlikely that I would see a man, well dressed, reading an Agatha Christie book, siting on the boardwalk, next to his old dog 

May 10, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023