Author Archives: Theodora Goss

The Photograph by Theodora Goss Forgive me, he said, for sending you a picture of myself. But there, you see, in the background are some interesting hills, and on the lake there is a heron as blue as the lake. … Continue reading →

Wild Heart by Theodora Goss Wild heart, why do you lament? The autumn winds blow cold, and leaves lie on the pavement in heaps of crimson and gold. The river sleeps under panes of ice, the grass on its banks … Continue reading →

As the Days Pass by Theodora Goss As the days pass, as we talk less and less, you seem more and more like someone I made up, a bedtime story to keep away the dark, a bulwark against the night … Continue reading →

Nonsense Sonnet by Theodora Goss You’re sad and I’m sick, and I’ve run out of words. You’re sick and I’m sad, and there are no more chords. We speak a different language, that the birds understand, but you are too … Continue reading →

On Beauty by Theodora Goss I was trying to describe to you my idea of beauty: how it consists of complexity within simplicity, multiplicity within unity, variety in harmony with itself, like the serrated edges of a maple leaf, the … Continue reading →

Two Cities by Theodora Goss Here, beneath the snows of February, I think of you, so very far away, in a city made of poetry and time, painted like sunflowers and zinnias, yellow and orange and deep rose, where sunlight … Continue reading →

A Realization by Theodora Goss One day I noticed that I was standing on nothing at all, not a floor of wide pine boards fixed down with iron nails, not a forest floor with last year’s litter of oak leaves, … Continue reading →