Finally, a small wind to move the curtains.
Hot in this upstairs room. Outside,
the dogs sleep on the cool concrete floor
of the garage.
And you, my love.
Why do I feel alone without you
Whom I have never known?
The Loneliness One dare not sound—And would as soon surmiseAs in its Grave go plumbingTo ascertain the size— The Loneliness whose worst alarmIs lest itself should see—And perish from before … Continue reading
The history of a Western problem ‘God, but life is loneliness,’ declared the writer Sylvia Plath in her private journals. Despite all the grins and smiles we exchange, she says, … Continue reading
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. … Continue reading