Sometimes when I am long alone I wonder what is loneliness -- This silence like a deep bell's tone -- These moments, motionless? This hush above the nervous street? -- Removed as is the tree that stands, Hill-high, with burrowing root-feet And boughs like reaching hands. As in my blood I feel life press, Like sap into the frailest bough, I think if such is loneliness Then I am lonely now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEALS IN PENOBSCOT BAY by KAREN SWENSON THE BLACK RIDERS: 38 by STEPHEN CRANE PANDOSTO, THE TRIUMPH OF TIME: IN PRAISE OF HIS BEST-BELOVED FAWNIA by ROBERT GREENE HYMNE (TO BE SUNG WITH THREE VOICES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |