Old Friend

He and I are old pals, for I have met this particular loneliness before. He likes to join me for long walks and tea. He shows up unannounced in words I read, lyrics I hear. Perhaps I should not let him in and allow him to get comfortable. But his face is so familiar. With every visit, I feel as if he has something to say and I am trying to listen. I just wish the silence was quieter.