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Final Draft

My poetry selfish,
a teacher I’m not,
my message once for saying

Instruction a tool
long missing and gone,
imagery not relaying

The ivory tower
a dungeon to me
where freedom goes to die

The wind in the willows,
a hawk on the wing
—my verse to course and fly

(The New Room: October, 2021)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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