I don’t often post poems, but a few lines from this came to mind today (the 2nd stanza), almost 25 years after I memorized it.
“When I’m alone”—the words tripped off his tongue
As though to be alone were nothing strange.
“When I was young,” he said; “when I was young…”
I thought of age, and loneliness, and change.
I thought how strange we grow when we’re alone,
And how unlike the selves that meet and talk,
And blow the candles out, and say good night.
Alone… The word is life endured and known.
It is the stillness where our spirits walk
And all but inmost faith is overthrown.