I love solitude. I hate loneliness.
But sometimes I get mixed up. Know what I
mean? Don’t know what I feel. Can only guess
if I’m sad you’re away or glad your eyes,
your smile, your soft voice invite me in when
we meet. Feel both at the same time. Like young
Romeo, I guess…beneath the balcony
in both rapture and agony…too stunned
to sense reality. Feel both when you’re
not here. Maybe I’ll turn to Freud or Jung
for answers. Maybe just back to Shakespeare.
Maybe simply pray and listen. I’ve sung
about you when you’re away. Did you hear
me? Soft as an angel’s wing passing near?
Roger Armbrust
July 6, 2019
