Fence
each day raises a barrier
between the trivial and the vivid,
frosted by worry and haze.
a barrier that hides art and truth.
it is glue on every wing,
darksome to joys under the sun.
i hone poetic words
on a whetstone of years.
somewhere close by, beauty waits lonely.
the calendar squares,
they age me so fast,
those half-formed bureaucracies.
the shadows in their perpendiculars
creep their dingy cellophane
across the dawn.
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7/8/24
5/15 .. Several word changes
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