a paean to loneliness

where it really happens. craving distraction. 
wishing for a word, a touch. so desperate that 
even a television voice would be welcome. but 
this, this is where it happens. tidying, 
cleaning, attending to old obligations delays 
the inevitable -- dark despair and glimpses of 
beauty will crawl out from where they have taken 
refuge in a busy life, a lathe of solitude curling 
and gouging away things important, 
things unnecessary, leaving a remnant

-- RonRisley - 19 Aug 2005