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Comments about Linda Collins
Loneliness comes on midnight winds,
To light upon your shoulder.
And the hours grow long, the night, black
Illuminated by the stark white faces of lost loves.
The silence of darkness
By the tinkling glass of your aloneness
As the distant laughter of yesterday echoes in your soul
How long a night, or black an hour
When the heart is only one
And the solitary spirit becomes the prey
Of the great, devouring raven of loneliness.