Friday, June 24, 2005

Beside the Reservoir II

June 24, 2005
7:46 PM

Alone at the reservoir.
Missing Mattie.

I believe
I just might be capable
of sitting here,
right here,
until next year,
writing without pause
except for sleep and sustenance.

The air is warm,
the breeze is cool,
the water in the reservoir
sings soft around twin fountains.

All I lack
is the sister of my soul.

Even so,
I am whole here
beside the reservoir.

No comments:

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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