The Return of Ards

A re-opened door

From a childhood impression

A glowing hearth

Seizes me in warm paralysis

Clinging to technological hope

Frequency becomes anticipation

Homework is in it's infancy

As I walk, consumed on tiptoes

Reservation is the patron of hazards

A thief accepts the gift of my silence

Attentiveness will be the sweetest bait

A canvas for the content of a soul.


© Paul Ginz




A Poet's Call

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