Speaking of my friend Lee reminds me of a poem on friendship that my mom used to quote when I was a teen. Today I went online to see who wrote it and discovered that it is a quotation from George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans) [1819-1880]. Apparently it was not originally written as a poem, but I prefer it that way. So here it is (as a poem):
Oh, the comfort – the inexpressible comfort
of feeling safe with a person,
having neither to weigh thoughts
nor measure words,
but pouring them all right out
– just as they are –
chaff and grain together,
certain that a faithful hand
will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping,
and with a breath of kindness,
blow the chaff away.
