Poetry (Day 175): Point of View

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     Point of View

 

The cusp of a new season.
Winter and spring wrestle
like newborn pups
in the gardens and in the fields.

A splash of white on a far hillside.
The young poet remembers his lover
and smiles at the new season’s first wildflowers
as he wanders down the lane.

The cusp of a new season.
Winter and spring squabble
like black eyed magpies
in the trees along the fence.

A splash of white on a far hillside.
The old poet thinks of his wife
and shivers at the last of the season’s snow
holding on past its time.

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