Every Time

The street was white again,
all the bushes covered with heavy snow
and the trees glittering, encased in ice.

I lay in the dark, waiting for the night to end.
It seemed the longest night I had ever known,
longer than the night I was born

I write about you all the time, I said aloud.
Every time I say “I,” it refers to you.

– Louise Glück, from Visitors Abroad

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