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Saturday, September 27, 2014

O morn of beauty

Is it you there,
a spirit in your hair,
veil wind-pressed across your eyes,
the desperation and reach of art
caught in the attitude
of your white parasol? 


Happy birthday, Terry. May there be more days as stunning and unforgettable as that one.

I love you. 

R

(verse from lost poem c. 1989)