Say, my love, this world is whole:
a windfall here beneath the bole.
Or hold, my love, love’s time is now:
a flourish, then the fruit along the bough.
But O, my love, how hard to hold
bare thoughts of love in winter’s cold.
The apple limbs are bent and gray.
My love, O Christ, my love is far away.
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
The Possibility of Possibility
"Might could” is a Southern expression meaning “maybe I could” or “I might be able to,” conveying…
The False Promise of No Contact
Around the time nineteen-year-old Alice began cutting ties with her family, she announced on social media that…
Moral Certitude and the Iran War
The current military engagement with Iran calls renewed attention to just war theory in the Catholic tradition.…
