Sorrow is knowledge. Those that know the most must mourn the deepest. The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life. -Lord Byron
The house is quiet. I'm sitting, stretched out on the living room loveseat, reading The Broadview Anthology of Poetry. The beloved pages of the paperback, frayed from years of use, offer a sensation of comfort.
My tears and laughter garnish many of the pages, others with a sip or two of tea. Several of my favorite poets live there, waiting between the worn binding for me to find.
Flipping through the collated sections, I have only but to find the creased corners. They've been turned down with care.
The black typed words represent more than mere ink. They have magical properties that mend a broken heart and lift a fading spirit - if only one knows how to liste
