Sunday, May 29, 2016

Robert Verdon, #157, Balcony, Hall of Mirrors

     I planted years
In a pot by the door
I’m praying that
They’ll grow again

The stems are dead
Scratched by my nail
To bare the green

In each crisp foxtail
Of juniper needles
I see my face
As it is hot
I water well.


  1. Thanks Efi, Lizz. I must confess that this one goes back to 1975 and has never been published anywhere — didn't have time to write anything new yesterday.


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