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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345390" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Funnel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The family story tells, and it was told true, <br>of my great-grandfather who begat eight <br>genius children and bought twelve almost-new <br>grand pianos. He left a considerable estate <br>when he died. The children honored their <br>separate arts; two became moderately famous, <br>three married and fattened their delicate share <br>of wealth and brilliance. The sixth one was <br>a concert pianist. She had a notable career <br>and wore cropped hair and walked like a man, <br>or so I heard when prying a childhood car <br>into the hushed talk of the straight Maine clan. <br>One died a pinafore child, she stays her five <br>years forever. And here is one that wrote- <br>I sort his odd books and wonder his once alive <br>words and scratch out my short marginal notes <br>and finger my accounts. <br>back from that great-grandfather I have come <br>to tidy a country graveyard for his sake, <br>to chat with the custodian under a yearly sun <br>and touch a ghost sound where it lies awake. <br>I like best to think of that Bunyan man <br>slapping his thighs and trading the yankee sale <br>for one dozen grand pianos. it fit his plan <br>of culture to do it big. On this same scale <br>he built seven arking houses and they still stand. <br>One, five stories up, straight up like a square <br>box, still dominates its coastal edge of land. <br>It is rented cheap in the summer musted air <br>to sneaker-footed families who pad through <br>its rooms and sometimes finger the yellow keys <br>of an old piano that wheezes bells of mildew. <br>Like a shoe factory amid the spruce trees <br>it squats; flat roof and rows of windows spying <br>through the mist. Where those eight children danced <br>their starfished summers, the thirty-six pines sighing, <br>that bearded man walked giant steps and chanced <br>his gifts in numbers. <br>Back from that great-grandfather I have come <br>to puzzle a bending gravestone for his sake, <br>to question this diminishing and feed a minimum <br>of children their careful slice of suburban cake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345390" data-title="Funnel de Anne Sexton" data-description="The family story tells, and it was told true, 
of my great-grandfather who begat eight 
genius children and bought twelve almost-new 
grand pianos. He left a considerable estate 
when he died. The children honored their 
separate arts; two became ..."></div>
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