When Poetry Speaks What I Cannot Say
When Poetry Speaks What I Cannot Say by Henry Regehr “And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill, But O for the touch of the vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still”. Alfred Lord Tennyson said it well. He understood the emptiness, the loneliness, the longing for Lillian’s voice and the touch that is gone. The cooking smells from the kitchen are missing, the bed feels cold and lonely, and the back seat of the Uber seems empty. There is no hand to hold, no warm embrace, no one to tell of the book I’m reading, or of the people we met…
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