Thursday, July 01, 2010

love is all

it is evening and i have been thinking about two things all day - one is an edna st. vincent millay poem about love and the other is a former pastor whose granddaughter is lying in a hospital with brain cancer.

"love is not all"...the poem begins - then later, "love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath, nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone, yet many a man is making friends with death, even as i speak, for lack of love alone."

these lines may find themselves on the inside pages of my novella.

somehow joel's granddaughter is related.

is there anything but love?

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