MY OLD AGE

My Old Age

 

 

came, shades

and shaves of dusk – a

soot-fall piling

 

I have been

Ramses

in glass case

drily living, im-

potent

 

the head

on the wall

privy to one room’s

gossip

            the revolutions

of a glass eye

 

My death

will break like rain

 

or a single ray

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