William Meredith

22”x28” lithograph and monotype, printed at Derriere L'Etoile

Airman's Virtue
(after Herbert)

High plane for whom the winds incline
         Who own but to your own recall,
There is a flaw in your design
          For you must fall

High cloud whose proud and angry stuff
         Rose up in heat against earth's thrall,
The nodding law has time enough
          To wait your fall

Only an outward aching soul
          Can hold in high distain these ties
And fixing on a farther pole
          will sheerly rise


William wrote his poem out after his stroke. This took him an hour, punctuated with short breaks. He was very pleased when done. I drew fighters in the blue of that Pacific Ocean sky, not exactly the type of plane he flew. These were one of the first things I drew, along with tanks and stick soldiers fighting......little dotted lines indicating the trajectory of the bullets. I drew these in art class for Mrs. Barstow, the art teacher, in sixth grade. She derided me by saying they did not look real. Draw something real. Looking up form my desk at a woman with old lady blue hair, I cold have said something but didn't. 

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