The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome,
And say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was yourself. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
Derek Walcott
What a great poem. The best we've read in LA. Especially after all those Shakespearean sonnets. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" No. No, you shall not. I like spring days better, anyway, thanks for asking. =) That's what I would say to that darn William. Not that I dislike him. Hamlet was great. Kinda. I'd rather read, well, something else.
