Some beautiful moments seem unremarkable, when described --
The beauty Of the season Is not illusion It’s Elusive
The noise and stretch of holidays, The clamor and the crowd – The many and the much that’s done, That’s busy, full, and loud — These have their place among our joys; But yet, I’ve learned by stealth That sometimes what I really need’s A moment to Myself
The lights are strung, the tree is up – and still, The hollowness and barrenness have grown; With all of this to ward the winter chill, Then why does he feel empty and alone? The mirror in the other room would say There is no corporal majesty to see, And gentle night can’t alter brutal … Continue reading "Then Why?"
Thoughts on an actual Christmas Party photo from 1954.
He seeks to balm his past...