Everything closed.
Yet to feel,think. Truth of hell.
This loss of contact.
To be closed from everything, and yet to feel, to think …
This is the truth of hell, stripped of its gaudy medievalisms.
This loss of contact.
And yet I look to you to teach me communication.
Teach me hope.
Joanne Harris in Chocolat, 1999
O TELL me, friends, while yet we part,
And heart can yet be heard of heart,
O tell me then, for what is it
Our early plan of life we quit;
From all our old intentions range,
And why does all so wholly change?
O tell me, friends, while yet we part!
O tell me, friends, while yet we part,—
Arthur Hugh Clough, 1819 – 1861
No Haiku For You 