I feel the silent march of time
Like a glacier crawling, haltingly,
Toward an open and unknown sea,
The gulls’ joyful weeping haunting me
Under the wintry brilliance of sun
And the piercing sky. It calves, willingly,
This great white wall shedding free
Of its fatal burden, into a greater deep,
Crumbling with certainty, plunging
With purpose—and fully knowing
There’s a current still out there,
Meaning to bring me home.
Dwelling deep in the forests of New England, Graham spends most of his time reading, taking walks with his dog, and learning new and interesting things (and reveling in cooler, more temperate climates). Born and raised in the Boston area, Graham was homeschooled from an early age. After high school, he proceeded to get a bachelor’s in Literature from Patrick Henry College in Northern Virginia. He currently resides in the Boston area while pursuing a master’s in Education at Gordon College, steeping in the rich history of his home turf and a continued exploration of literature from across the world. He says you should read Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country and Chaim Potok’s The Chosen, because they are incredible novels. Also, read Robert Frost.