What if my hunger is fed with all that seems most palatable, what if my enemies bite the dust…what if my house is full of friends and laughter…what if my garments of finest silk cling and flow—if the endless lives that touch me as I pass are cold and hungry and joyless. My spirit’s light goes out. I grope in the darkness. The world is a windowless dungeon.
NOTE: In honor of National Poetry Month, each day a person’s birthday will be celebrated with a poem about or by him/her. The poems come from all over the place.