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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Forty-two sits waiting on a
sundeck.
Over her the sky melts into dawn.
Rustling leaves remind her of the silence
That soon will turn to talk above the sea.
Yellow flowers flood the longhaired meadow.
The sundeck has no mooring in the
moment.
Wind and tide will bear it towards the sunrise,
On which again, again the day is born. |
