You will always be the William to my Dorothy Wordsworth. I guess some people are simply meant to write together. I will be the prose. You can make sense of the metrics. I will look at the mist and give you a detailed description of the fauna; and you can become famous after making nature accessible and beautiful for those who will still bother to pick up books.
I can't believe you. At the hour I wrote this, thinking of you, you were preparing to end your life.
ReplyDeleteSo much is happening, and changing. And you're missing it.
You wouldn't believe how I'm missing you. You just wouldn't believe it.
I wrote about your poetry. That was the only place where I felt like I would always know you. And I always had a special affinity for prose (that you had already mastered beyond my level, I admit), so you moved onward, experimenting with form. I may not have ever understood you. But in your poetry, I felt like I did.
And so much is happening. And you're missing it.