“To Richard Wilbur, Poet”

  “To Richard Wilbur, poet” A rhyme captured in time in a scrapbook of mine. There, a red fire-truck may recline. Splendid, soul-flaunting laundry on the line. A churning through your attic blinds brings creepiness. You shine. One-of-a-kind. Rare Find! (References: “The Fire-Truck”, “Love Calls Us To The Things Of This World”, “A Hole in…

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“Sylvia”

“Sylvia” With wind upon each page, her ink dries quick and with a churlish lip, she wrote her book. Behind her gleamed a road of yellow brick that shone with choice of words she aptly took. Another poet found, she sampled life but dirty dishes, kids are small cartoons. Withstanding disappointment, she’s a sight as…

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