Wednesday, August 18, 2010


Ah, there again the strains of William Tell
Evoking the Long Ranger with its spell
As “Hi-yo, Silver!” swells in memory
And boyhood by my radio visits me:
The Cheerios, the boxtops and the dimes
Mailed off for nifty trinkets which sometimes
Would come within a year-long month—a ring
For hiding secret messages—a thing
You hold up to your eye in a dark place
To see what looks like bursting atoms race
Across a microscopic galaxy—
A neat decoder badge, for mystery,
But most of all the Masked Man in his pride
And Tonto, Kemo Sabe, by his side.