Stooti's Poem of the Day

It was something to let him go. It was a having to believe, furthermore, in the voyage of the other, a Ulysses without an Ithaca, was to speak of the sea without speech of the shore— and to have for a body the going away of the body, to have for eyes the going away of the eyes. And for hearing, a silence, where once were people. And for comfort, a dwelling before each steps into that weather of which all strangers speak.