Dark figure, peripheral,
just by my shoulder.
For me? Is it time
to set my affairs in order?
Yet I am surprised
by my own calm.
Eventually I even forget him
and fall asleep.
In the morning, my Beloved
waking beside me, says:
‘What a terrible night!
I thought I was dying.’
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
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woo, shivers!
ReplyDeleteWell, we haven't had a repeat visit! :)
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