Andrew Leaman

Between the computer, a pencil, and a Book half my day passes. One day it will be half a century. I live in strange cities and sometimes talk with strangers about matters strange to me. I listen to music a lot: Bach, Mahler, Chopin. I see five elements in music: weakness, power, pain, and hope. The fifth has no name. I read poets, living and dead, who teach me tenacity, faith, and pride. I try to understand the great philosophers--but usually catch just scraps of their precious thoughts. I like to take long walks on Detroit streets and watch my fellow man, quickened by envy, anger, desire; to trace a silver coin passing from hand to hand as it slowly loses its round shape (the president's profile is erased). Beside me trees expressing nothing but a green, indifferent perfection. Black birds pace the fields, waiting patiently like widows. I'm no longer a child, but someone else is always older. I like deep sleep, when I cease to exist, and slow car rides on country roads when poplars and houses dissolve like cumuli on sunny days. Sometimes in museums the paintings speak to me and irony suddenly vanishes. I love gazing at night sky. Every day I pray to my father. Every week I try to meet with friends, thus proving my fidelity. My country tries to free itself from evil. I wish another liberation would follow. Could I help in this? I don't know if i am able. I'm truly not a child of the ocean, as Antonio Machado wrote about himself, but a child of air, thought and music and not all the ways of the high world cross paths with the life that --so far-- belongs to me