This me and my shadow write is no sympathy dance, to me. It contains the austerity to which you refer in the introduction (especially the opening line: "At home awaiting death's wrecking ball"), but also holds such profound familiarity that it sings. There are enough installments of comfort to have me feel that way; the six lines beginning with "with a sigh" and the title itself "Alone & Company" instead of "Alone and Alone". See? ~~ Diana

"death's wrecking ball" "my pillows nocturnal kingdom" "never turn our backs on neverland" wonderful phrases that help set the mood along with many well chosen words beginning with Alone and Company. I agree that take away the kids and pirates and Neverland is a very alone place indeed, and needs to be cherished and taken care of as any child should be. I often find my own thoughts in "friendly nooks". I like this poem, Odin. Be well, Kathy

Our sad old world truly needs a spark of hope today.

alone can be the only safe haven for some
budd

I believe I actually inhabit aloneness in the ways that you describe here, Odin. It's not my outward circumstance that defines wealth/poverty, happy/sad, but the condition of my present mental processes turning cog-like the wheels of my emotions. Like Jerry, I can relate to this and find myself within it. Neverland is the Always of my existance and populated by one. We are our own kingdom and country. Love the self-reflexive resonance and completeness in this piece.

By the way, I have been thinking of you in terms of wondering whether you would enjoy this poet, if you haven't already discovered her: Jennifer Militello. Her book, A Flinch of Song (Tupelo, 2009), I have read extracts of at the links below and really love what I've seen -

http://suddenprose.blogspot.co.uk/

http://carrieetter.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/jennifer-militellos-flinch-of-song.html

I relate, Odin, big time. Even so, I'm probably happier now than I have ever been. That sounds sad, but I don't consider it to be. I'm taking happy where I find it.

Some of our best thoughts, and poems, come when we are alone.

Ron