he walked
along the high path
along the ledge,
with no railing
the light was
failing
the evening woods
in a warm yellow
bath
five-petalled
flowers
at his faltering
feet
the flag at
half-mast
across the
quadrangle
the school immersed
in grey smoke
from a hundred
chimneys
the river wound far
away
into nothingness and
glory
A portent of the Trump era?
ReplyDeletewell, I hope not Myron! but who knows.
ReplyDelete