Where is my friend, my love?
Does he carry his sadness still?
Like baggage in a tightly-closed fist.
Does he carry happiness finally?
A pleasure he judged himself undeserving of.
Does he carry love?
A thing he cannot help, but be.
Where is my friend, my love,
for I want to see it all.
Recommendation: East of Eden by John Steinbeck, one of my favourite modern classics. It’s an epic and winding story about two families, and generations of children reliving the stories of their ancestors. The dedication is particularly lovely, too.