With eyes closed, conscience suspended,
Inhabited by fleeting moments splendid,
I walked with Robert Frost, sigh,
White hair, he wore a blazer, no tie,
Standing in humbled stance only a few feet away,
He was engaged to my cousin, how? I could not say,
May and December,
I envied her –
To live among gentle genius,
I would have thrown her under the bus.
I wish we could have exchanged words or signs,
Perhaps he would have read a few of my lines.
Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.