Monday, November 26, 2012



Don’t you know what absence
makes. Weren’t you ever

taught. The heart will grow
and stretch, reaching for

what is farthest, though
it is not far, it is not there.

Absence makes the heart grow
hungrier, dragging back

bluestone, sarsen. Get used
to the taste of igneous rock.

Get used to the taste of fire.
Don’t you know what absence

tastes like yet. You do or you will,
pass us that feldspar, would you.


  1. Oh my, the things people collect to fill emptiness. "Sarsen" and "feldspar" were great.

  2. Ah, to have compassion for others' absence, for what is absent to you, it's a delicate thing - no question marks may be used. The metaphor is apt: how our own feel for absence evokes a similar feeling for the unrecorded denizens of ancient energy centers. Does dark plus dark equal light? That's the pain and beauty of our lost world.

  3. Heading to the dictionary now. Thanks for the brain-stretch. : )

  4. Hannah, do you ever just watch dumb TV?

    Congrats on the Huff Post poem. (haven't found it yet, but will).


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