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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Thirty-six is ripe for renovation,
Having reached a point of no return.
In time one finds an ever-fertile field
Rippling with the lushness of its yield,
The womb of any well-conceived concern.
Years wait upon the will to recreation.
So must we teach ourselves what we would
learn
If we would replicate what is revealed,
Xeroxing the wind behind the motion. |
