The abiding absence between day and day

Just read about a poet, Reginald Sheperd, who in his last blog post, wrote about a poem by his recently deceased mentor, Alvin Feiman, called True Night.

So it is midnight, and all
The angels of ordinary day gone,
The abiding absence between day and day
Come like true and only rain
Comes instant, eternal, again

...

Here every grief requires its grief,
Here every longing thing is lit
Like darkness at an altar.

As long as truest night is long,
Let no discordant wing
Corrupt these sorrows into song.

What a beautiful poem and an equally delightful post about the poem. Go read the poem as well as Sheperd's post about it at the above link.

I have not read (or written) any poetry in a long time but this makes me want to return all the fiction and non-fictions books I have to the public library and sit down with poetry books.

By the way, Reginald died sometime in the last two weeks since that post, victim to the cancer that he wrote, in the above post, was back. It is poignant to read his friends and acquaintances' comments at that post ...first wishing him a speedy recovery and then expressing their grief over his passing. (Tributes and links to many sites that remember him through this BookSlut post.)

And such is life. And so it goes.

P.S. Good essay by Shepherd earlier this summer - On Difficulty in Poetry.