#soitude

‘When I was a girl,’ she had once told a friend, ‘I was terribly sure trees and flowers were the same as birds or people. That they thought things, and talked among themselves. And we could hear them if we really tried. It was just a matter of emptying your head of all other sounds. Being very quiet and listening very hard. Sometimes I still believe that. But one can never get quiet enough…’

The days we pass in solitude 

drag on - but end fast

as if at some small latitude

where the evenings never last.

And having spoken not a word 

to any other soul,

without any other voices heard -