He carefully selects
a small carton of milk,
places them in
grabs a ’family size’ lasagne.
The ’meals for one’
yield little comfort
on lonely nights.
I am often alone but never lonely,
I feel that solitude becomes me.
Time away from the hectic whirl
That forever encroaches upon this world,
Is good for me, good for the mind
Of the writer, poet, creative kind.
And so it is anon and anew,
I write these words for you.