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‘Lights out . . .
I have come to the borders of sleep, the unfathomable deep forest where all must lose their way, however straight, or winding, soon or late; One cannot choose. Many a road and track that, since the dawn's first crack, up to the forest brink, deceived the travellers, suddenly now blurs, and in they sink. Here love ends; Despair, ambition ends, all pleasure and all trouble, although most sweet or bitter, here ends in sleep that is sweeter than tasks most noble. There is not any book or face of dearest look that I would not turn from now to go into the unknown, I must enter and leave alone, I know not how. The tall forest towers; Its cloudy foliage lowers ahead, shelf above shelf; Its silence I hear and obey that I may lose my way and myself.
Edward Thomas
‘Grief is not timebound’
We fall to the earth like leaves, lives as brief as footprints in snow, no words express the grief we feel, I feel I cannot let her go. For she is everywhere. Walking on the windswept beach, talking in the sunlit square. Next to me in the car, I see her sitting there. At night she dreams me and in the morning, the sun does not rise. My life is as thin as the wind and I am done with counting stars. She is gone, she is gone. I am her sad music and I play on and on and on.
Roger McGoug
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