With the ocean vast and wide
It is with me a source of pride
that I can live on and on and on.
How easy to forget this when
solitude stops being a blessing
and becomes more of a curse, of
a crone, ancient and wizened who hated humanity
or of a god with a grudge to bear who invented
the curse of solitude, loneliness as a cross to bear
for all who choose this way for better or for worse.
But mostly it’s OK with me
not to have another sharing my space –
and all that goes with that. In fact
I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not
now I have thrown away the holy cow.
Of singles and DVD’s and bottles of wine.
I like my beer strong, my women weak
and solitude all week long.