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The Lanyard – Billy Collins<\/h3>\nThe other day I was ricocheting slowly<\/p>\noff the blue walls of this room,<\/p>\n
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,<\/p>\n
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,<\/p>\n
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary<\/p>\n
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. <\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist<\/p>\ncould send one into the past more suddenly\u2014<\/p>\n
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp<\/p>\n
by a deep Adirondack lake<\/p>\n
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips<\/p>\n
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard<\/p>\nor wear one, if that\u2019s what you did with them,<\/p>\n
but that did not keep me from crossing<\/p>\n
strand over strand again and again<\/p>\n
until I had made a boxy<\/p>\n
red and white lanyard for my mother.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,<\/p>\nand I gave her a lanyard.<\/p>\n
She nursed me in many a sick room,<\/p>\n
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,<\/p>\n
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,<\/p>\n
and then led me out into the airy light<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
and taught me to walk and swim,<\/p>\nand I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.<\/p>\n
Here are thousands of meals, she said,<\/p>\n
and here is clothing and a good education.<\/p>\n
And here is your lanyard, I replied,<\/p>\n
which I made with a little help from a counselor.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,<\/p>\nstrong legs, bones and teeth,<\/p>\n
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,<\/p>\n
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.<\/p>\n
And here, I wish to say to her now,<\/p>\n
is a smaller gift\u2014not the worn truth<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
that you can never repay your mother,<\/p>\nbut the rueful admission that when she took<\/p>\n
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,<\/p>\n
I was as sure as a boy could be<\/p>\n
that this useless, worthless thing I wove<\/p>\n
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
<\/font><\/div>\nHere’s a recording of Collins reading that poem<\/font>
<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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off the blue walls of this room,<\/p>\n
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,<\/p>\n
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,<\/p>\n
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary<\/p>\n
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. <\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
could send one into the past more suddenly\u2014<\/p>\n
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp<\/p>\n
by a deep Adirondack lake<\/p>\n
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips<\/p>\n
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
or wear one, if that\u2019s what you did with them,<\/p>\n
but that did not keep me from crossing<\/p>\n
strand over strand again and again<\/p>\n
until I had made a boxy<\/p>\n
red and white lanyard for my mother.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
and I gave her a lanyard.<\/p>\n
She nursed me in many a sick room,<\/p>\n
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,<\/p>\n
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,<\/p>\n
and then led me out into the airy light<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.<\/p>\n
Here are thousands of meals, she said,<\/p>\n
and here is clothing and a good education.<\/p>\n
And here is your lanyard, I replied,<\/p>\n
which I made with a little help from a counselor.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
strong legs, bones and teeth,<\/p>\n
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,<\/p>\n
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.<\/p>\n
And here, I wish to say to her now,<\/p>\n
is a smaller gift\u2014not the worn truth<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
but the rueful admission that when she took<\/p>\n
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,<\/p>\n
I was as sure as a boy could be<\/p>\n
that this useless, worthless thing I wove<\/p>\n
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.<\/i><\/font><\/div>\n
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