Godzilla and Birdie Go for a Walk

Memory of Venice/Valentines Day

For this day, a painting, and a poem by Philip Booth.

Nightsong

Beside you,

lying down at dark,

my waking fits your sleep.

Your turning

flares the slow-banked fire

between our mingled feet,

and there,

curved close and warm

against the nape of love,

held there,

who holds your dreaming

shape, I match my breathing

to your breath;

and sightless, keep my hand

on your heart’s breast, keep

nightwatch

on your sleep to prove

there is no dark, nor death.

—Philip Booth

For this double celebration, a sketch, and the first verse of a poem by Lynn Ungar.

Celebrate this unlikely oracle,

this ball of fat and fur,

whom we so mysteriously endow

with the power to predict spring.

Let’s hear it for the improbable heroes who,

frightened at their own shadows,

nonetheless unwittingly work miracles.

Why shouldn’t we believe

this peculiar rodent holds power

over sun and seasons in his stubby paw?

Who says that God is all grandeur and glory?

—from “Groundhog Day” by Lynn Ungar