Poetry

There is a pleasure in the pathless words…
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet can not all conceal.
—Byron

The words are lovely, dark and deep.  —Frost

I went to the words because I wished to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of language.  —Thoreau

In the words we return to reason and faith.  —Emerson

Come to the words, for here is rest.  —Muir

Literature does not grow wild in the words.  —Burroughs

I put my heart to school in the words.  —Van Dyke

In the words is perpetual youth.  —Emerson

Whose words these are I think I know.  —Frost

We are not out of the words yet.  —Keyes

Terri Guillemets

2024

I know a guy.
Angry. Festering
in disappointment
of the world
and of himself.
A little depressed.
Sick of doing
the same. freaking.
thing. every day.
Wondering where
his lost youth went.
Hungering to replace
the comfort and
all the good things
in his life that
have gone away.
But resolutely
continuing on
doing his duty.
Living with the pain.
Loving while he can.
Taking any little
laugh he can find.
Then doing it all
over again. Perhaps
you know him too.
Perhaps we all do
— inside.

Terri Guillemets