i want to be with you,
it is as simple,
and as complicated 
as that

Bukowski, C.

{random poetry #124}

You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or in the silence after lightning before it says
its names — and then the clouds’ wide-mouthed
apologies. You were aimed from birth:

you will never be alone. Rain
will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
long aisles — you never heard so deep a sound,
moss on rock, and years. You turn your head —
that’s what the silence meant: you’re not alone.
The whole wide world pours down.

Stafford, W. (1914-1993)

“...they say it is by the pull of abysses, 
that you measure height.”

Tsvetaeva, M. (1892-1941), in Poem of the Mountain