I feel sometimes as if the
Whole of my soul has been
Scooped out with a big
Spoon; it lies alongside me
A tired and restless shell.
Sometimes something comes
And touches it - perhaps a beautiful and dominant tree,
Or a piece of Bach, or a tiny flower
In the grass; these can
Penetrate the fog which envelopes
Me, which will no doubt thicken
In the deep of Winter. But primroses
Will follow and all will be well.
Whole of my soul has been
Scooped out with a big
Spoon; it lies alongside me
A tired and restless shell.
Sometimes something comes
And touches it - perhaps a beautiful and dominant tree,
Or a piece of Bach, or a tiny flower
In the grass; these can
Penetrate the fog which envelopes
Me, which will no doubt thicken
In the deep of Winter. But primroses
Will follow and all will be well.
By Jane Holliday
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