S. Worthen | Weblog

I've been fond of this poem for a very long time. It seems particularly apropos this year, especially since it's raining.

The half-moon westers low, my love,
And the wind brings up the rain;
And wide apart lie we, my love,
And seas between the twain.

I know not if it rains, my love,
In the land where you do lie;
And oh, so sound you sleep, my love,
You know no more than I.

- A.E. Housman. Last Poems.