Category Archives: Ageing

Forty

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In a park

quiet near the station

forty silver chairs

beckon you

read their lines

aloud while

strolling between maples

in shade

friendship

celebration

honour

one city’s gift to another:

forty poets

whisper

bonne fete et

many more…

 

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Mentor

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Tonight watching Moon

I realized

I’m almost your age now

the edge where you stepped off

your light flickered

and you died

How elder I thought you were then

so much wiser grey-haired

and beautiful than I

how generously mischievous

whimsical and ultra cool

a shimmering infinitive

touchable stone

alive.