Shall I tell you how many
months I have been ill?
And that I have learned many
new routes into our
endless curiosity about
existence. How the sharpest pain
takes you like a lover, leaves
no room for any other desire
except absence. How what is more subtle
erodes      leaves you
suspended somewhere
outside what you have always
called real.

At the center of
all my sorrows
I have felt a presence
that was not mine alone.

From "Nature" from "Bending Home" c1998 by Susan Griffin. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, PO Box 271, Port Townsend, WA, 98368.

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