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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Seventy's a lush, high mountain
meadow
Eerie in the silence of its sky:
Vividly awash in alpine flowers,
Easy in the soft and vagrant hours,
Not quite at home but loathe to question why.
The moon shines through the veil, pocked and sallow,
Yet still the sun casts down its golden eye. |
