March: Year-day 69

 
                                              
                                               
March: Year-day 69

I have never had his experience,
nor am likely to, this lineman who dares
to bring us power, chancing his; who stares
the shocks of death heart to heart for the sense
of comfort we have come to demand, dense
though most of us are to the hard repairs
he must make after a storm, and the cares
that move him both to drink and maintenance.

Oh, each of us lives his own kind of life
somewhere between circumstance and desire
more or less dangerously, pain and joy
as in the pregnant womb of a good wife
or the eyes of a birthday gal his fire
or his climbing of poles/ to keep the boy.

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