The Responsibility of Love
Where you are now, the only lights are stars
and oil lamps flaring on vine-covered porches.
Where you are now, it must be midnight.
No one has bothered to name all the roads
that overlook the sea. The freshened air
smells of myrtle and white jasmine. A church
stands on the headland, and I hope it might
keep one thought of me alive in your head.
Autumn is here: warm days becoming cold.
The trees dropp more leaves, love, each time it rains.
I eat my meals with the TV turned on,
but softly so the neighbors won't complain.
The kilim is stained by the food I spilled
the first day-and the second-you were gone
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Comments about this poem (The Responsibility of Love by G.E. Patterson )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Raymond J Wright
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Mother to Son, Langston Hughes
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
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