what
Would life be if we could not buy
Objects to care for us
And bear them home, away from the druggists' pity,
If we could not carry in our own arms
Alms, alchemy, to the safety of our bedrooms,
If there were no more
Sounds in the night, continuous
Hush, hush of warm steam, not
Like human breath though regular, if there were nothing in the world
More hopeful than the self,
Soothing it, wishing it well.
- Louise Gluck
- Louise Gluck