The shape of the hole when you’re gone…"
--from “Belongings” by Clock Opera
“Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.”
…
“Praised be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love -but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.”
--Walt Whitman, from When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d
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