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
.

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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.

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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