There are those for whom life
is little better than a frat party,
all pose and flirt and “hold my beer,”
a refined science of pretending and denying.
To stand for the truth, for that silent thing
that most kindly haunts us,
feels like leaving the party for a time out,
going into a cold, dark room alone.
How many times have we chosen
the lights over the loneliness?
Only when we put our hand on the doorknob,
only when we walk through that narrow door
do we find there
the friendship of the truth,
the real world, its warm company.
June 24, 2021