ohbloodyhell8

Before we began reading, Older Son recalled last year when I came into his fifth grade classroom and read “The Raven”.  This is happily a good memory for him though tonight I apologized to him.  It was not the best selection because in my skewed world of what is normal family reading, I made a huge mistake in thinking all fifth graders enjoyed Poe…or even knew who he was.  I recovered at the end by making the connection to the Baltimore Ravens and then the classmates at least were polite in pretending to care.  I realized only tonight how much damage I potentially did to my son’s tender reputation in reading a little Poe in school.

But tonight, as I gently opened the care-worn copy of Poe, we delved this year into “The Black Cat”.  I felt this fitting considering we now have six felines living with us, yet none of them completely black so no nightmares should ensue.  Of course, the nine year old manages a nightmare every night…about two minutes after being tucked in.  I always marvel at how quickly he manages to succumb to REM sleep!

After the story, we chose a poem, “Fairy Land”, and we all quite enjoyed it.  We then read “Hymn” and I read it a second time and the boys caught the references better on that reading.  Then it was time for bed and I happened upon a poem that I had never read before while the boys prepared for slumber.

The title is simply “The Sleeper”.  One of the most haunting descriptions of a coffin is contained in this poem.  I wept while reading it.  I couldn’t have stopped myself if I had tried, but truthfully, I didn’t realize I was weeping till I tasted the tears.

“…The bodiless airs, a wizard rout,

Flit through thy chamber in and out

And wave the curtain canopy

So fitfully-so fearfully-

Above the closed and fringéd lid

‘Neath which thy slumb’ring soul lies hid,…”

And later,

“Forever with unopened eye,

While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!”

So sad, so haunting, so full of mourning.  What a tortured soul he must have been.  I am still sad that the Poe Toaster stopped the tradition.  I will have to enlighten the boys to that bit of history.  Younger Son had forgotten that they have visited Poe’s grave, so I suppose on the next trip to Baltimore we should visit it again.

Perhaps tomorrow night will be the annual reading of “The Raven”.  I shall read that poem till I can read nevermore!

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