poem by Robin Pugh Yi
From bitter cold predawn shadows you called out, “Hey, come here!”
The woman pretended not to hear as she hurried away. You persisted, “I want to show you something,” your deep voice echoing every storybook villain.
She barely restrained herself from running away, searched the street for an escape route, for anyone else awake who might save her.
“It’s a telescope,” you insisted, not considering the possible innuendo. “You can see the rings of Saturn.” She slowed to an almost normal pace as she approached the street corner, wondering if this stranger might really be offering nothing more than free candy.
“They’re so beautiful. I just want to show someone.” You almost couldn’t see her turn slightly toward you. You shoved your hands into your pockets, kicked some fallen leaves, resigned to whatever decision she would make. Hesitantly, she turned to walk back. Her face lit with wonder at the stunning shiny rings. She bowed a little to thank you.
I saw her leave as I approached, and shook my head at how oblivious you were to her fears. Then, teeth chattering in the eerie wind, you showed me those rings. And luminous sister Venus. Blurry hints of the Martian canals swam like a river of old stories. Candy from the dark, stranger man.
As a young girl’s mother, I’m not supposed to confess all the rides I’ve taken with strangers, the candy I’ve eaten, how often I’ve looked at what someone just wanted to show me in the shadows. I can’t deny meeting the ravenous wolf there. Can’t tell you to stop protecting yourself and your children. Please forgive my rashness in answering the ugly clichéd assumptions in the phrase, “You know how men are.” Yes, I do. I’ve accepted countless invitations called from the dark. The ravening wolf is rare. The call of the wild promises joy. The shadows teem with souls who ache to share the night sky.
Herodotus – where would we be without him? The fifth-century Greek writer is known as the Father of History, and although the sophistication of writing history has certainly changed in the intervening centuries, the overall shape and method have not. Herodotus is a landmark in the history of civilization.
