About

Long-Legged Fly

Yeats


That civilization may not sink,

Its great battle lost,

Quiet the dog, tether the pony

To a distant post;

Our mast Caesar is in the tent

Where the maps are spread,

His eyes fixed upon nothing,

A hand under his head.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream

His mind moves upon silence.

That the topless towers be burnt

And men recall that face,

Move most gently, if move you must

In this lonely place.

She thinks, part woman, three parts a child,

That nobody looks; her feet

Practice a tinker shuffle

Picked up on the street.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream

Her mind moves upon silence.

That girls at puberty may find

The first Adam in their thought,

Shut the door of the Pope’s chapel,

Keep those children out.

There on that scaffolding reclines

Michael Angelo.

With no more sound than the mice make

His hand moves to and fro.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream

His mind moves upon silence.


4 thoughts on “About

  1. Hi Theo, Just spent an hour reading your blog, I love it! I laughed and cried. Thanks so much for sharing. Your experience is so facinating, I love reading about it. XXOO

    • kitty: ah, you are sweet to devote so much time to reading about my crazy life. it really helps to share it – otherwise, i think i’d go mad! i hope all is well with you and eric and the kids. i think you and some of the girls should plan a shopping trip to delhi in the fall. let the heat pass – then we can play without passing out! (maybe we’ll do that one night as well…) please do keep in touch… xoxo t

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