Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
...
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I once sent this poem to someone who I loved greatly. She wasn't on the other side of the world (only 150km away) but it was exactly how I felt. A beautiful poem.
It's not really poetry though, is it? Poets these days all seem to be speaking in the same voice, studiously avoiding any thing which smacks of metre or rhyme. Eliot was able to write so well in free verse, but I find that most 'modern' poets can't really do it.
I carried this poem around in my wallet for years as it summed up so much how I felt about a person in my life who lived in another country. Rereading it now reminds me of what I felt back then.
This is so beautifully and sadly romantic. It sums up how it feels to be in love with someone and apart from them. I love it.
An unusual poem from this poet, not one of her usual subjects.
She has the gift of turning words into guided missiles; small neutron bombs of everyday passion.
A sublime display of how poetry is the best way to attempt transfiguring into words the human heart.