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Love

Two thousand cigarettes.
A hundred miles
from wall to wall.
An eternity and a half of vigils
blanker than snow.

Tons of words
old as the tracks
of a platypus in the sand.

A hundred books we didn't write.
A hundred pyramids we didn't build.

Sweepings.
Dust.

Bitter
as the beginning of the world.

Believe me when I say
it was beautiful.

Miroslav Holub
 

 

Letters from Martha Gellhorn

Martha remained a good friend throughout her life (I was once summoned to Cadogan Square to give her a cooking lesson!) and would have written the Mzee many letters. These, curiously, were found amongst his brother's posessions after he died. How Morton came to have them is not known but he saw worth in them and they give a little snapshot of Martha's visits in late 1964 and early 1965

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