Sunday, November 20, 2016

Robert Verdon, #363, firing on three cylinders

met my grand-niece Tilly today

three weeks old and seven pounds

by the time she’s 15

I’ll be nearly 80

rose petals mistaken for glass

or vice-versa, while cycling

midday sun captured in a painting

every day, like Dorian Gray

rainbow a steady peacock’s tail

poetic as a three-speed bicycle

picture from a calendar of forgotten days

in a Madelyn Garner poem

never have I noticed

how our city is cupped

in the hands of mountains

as I did this morning

recumbent, prepared for war

or the great discoveries

of this millennium

that will surpass all others


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