Sunday, 6 December 2020

the wrong comparison

 

A second degree in Eighty One:
she maybe 2 or 3 days
older than me.
                       Did I say days?
In the old Celtic reckoning.
With age years have become like days.

I remember the old legend
of Rip van Winkle; falls asleep,
his 20 winks become at once
as many years long: wasted years.

Or not wasted, perhaps just spent
beyond the fellow’s cognisance,
in latent recognition.


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