My Home Grasping at straws, I bless another day Of having felt not much less than all right. I wrote a paragraph and put some more Books in a box for books to throw away. Such were my deeds. Now, short of breath and sore From all that effort, I prepare for night, Which occupies the windows as I climb The stairs. A step up and I stand, each time, Posed like the statue of a man in pain, Although I’m really not: just weak and slow. This is the measure of my dying years: The sad skirl of…
Subscribe to get access to all online articles
Already a member?
Sign in to read this article
Digital Subscription
$98 / YR
Get the latest ideas from Australia’s most insightful writers.
- Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
Printed & Digital Subscription
$118 / YR
For avid readers of leading ideas
from Australia’s brightest.
- Printed & Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.