by Barbara Bald


There is a primal longing, somewhere

in the pit of the belly,

in the core of the heart—

a deep-seated longing to touch, to connect,

to lock pinkies for a life-time.

An urge that rarely quits, it nibbles holes in excuses

like a mouse on raglan wool,

nags like an insistent two-year old tugging at a sleeve.

It doesn’t satisfy easily; defies money, age and distance.

Sex is not its keeper nor convenience its solace.

Companionship only polishes the surface of the gem.

Some swear it is the desire to return to a creator

who has ousted them from the garden.

Others herald it as a plea to listen to the words

of one’s own soul.

Blessed are the few who find it in the heart of another

and are brave enough to throw a life-line

across the void of years.


Barbara Bald is a retired teacher, educational consultant and freelance writer. Her poems have been published in a variety of anthologies: The Other Side of Sorrow, The Poets’ Guide to New Hampshire, For Loving Precious Beast, Piscataqua Poems, Of Sun and Sand, The Widows’ Handbook and In Gilded Frame Anthology. They have appeared in The Northern New England Review, Avocet, Off the Coast and in The Poets’ Touchstone. Her work has been recognized in both national and local contests. Her recent full-length book is called Drive-Through Window and her new chapbook is entitled Running on Empty. Barb lives in Alton, NH with her cat Catcher, two Siamese Fighting fish and a tank of Hissing Cockroaches.

One thought on “Union

  1. Charming….and yes, “Blessed are the few who find it in the heart of another

    and are brave enough to throw a life-line

    across the void of years” so reach out and come with me to the beach!

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