Air-Conditioned Stanza

I was sitting in a cafeteria listening to the chatter and clatter of an incoming crowd, and the air-conditioning in the ducts began to boom, and that put me in mind of my paternal grandfather, Yeshaiya Fefferman, who was a tinsmith and worked alone in his dark shop bending, crimping and hammering sheets of galvanized iron into massive sections of ductwork, and this stanza came to me:

Huge hammer of air conditioner’s muffled thud
grandfather hammering in the dark and dirty workshop
large taciturn man, heavy shoes, heavy tread, slow, lonely work
grim and satisfied response of a large creature burrowing in the earth

Share this post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Stanley Fefferman

Stanley Fefferman

Whatever road unrolls under my feet is my destination. I know there will be poems by the wayside, mine and others, that I will post and blog about, but not so much about meals or governments or weather. The news I blog comes out of art and music and friends who tell me what's up. What does any of it mean? Let us figure that out as we go.

Get in touch with Stanley

Website Powered by RapidWebLaunch

Home page photo credits: “Professor” Dale Hildebrand, “Poet” Eric Fefferman Photography, “Journalist” Eric Fefferman Photography, “Photographer” Marisa Macri-Fefferman, “Get in Touch”  Eric Fefferman Photography