that we can
At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
When I am tired and lonely, I come to this place
to be more alone.
But I set my simple table,
two chipped goblets,
wine of patient vintage,
and watch through the window, day and night,
for all that I’ve lost, or thought I’ve lost,
come home to me.
—Jan Heller Levi, from “This Place” in Once I Gazed at You in Wonder (Louisiana State University Press, 1999)