Our Silences

What silence we keep year after year
With those who are most near to us and dear;
We live beside each other day by day
And speak of myriad things, but seldom say
The full sweet word that lies within our reach,
Beneath the common ground of common speech;
Then out of sight and out of reach they go,
These dear familiar friends that loved us so,
And, sitting in the shadows they have left,
Alone with lonliness and sore bereft,
We think with vain regret of some kind word
That once we might have said and they have heard.

James Russell Lowell.