(25th March 1943 / )

A Glimpse

A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night--And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going--of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.

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Comments (12)

Something the lucky few of us might say, you've said, magnificently. Chuck
In this poem one feels the warmth that is there in your heart. You are an artist with your words and painted such a beautiful heart - a golden heart, indeed! A cherished poem.
oh this is so beautiful! i like the idea of having a secret place in your heart...somehow i imagine it as a little gold box, all warm and glowing. what a sweet, gentle poem. hearts gina
Oh Ernestine, this truly is love at it's finest! Beautiful! Sincerely, mary
Extraordinary! for love there is always a secret place.............fragile heart? isn't it? Keep it more secret!
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