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Better Than Best
I didn’t stay young
but I never got old
My cards often weak
when watching you fold
I sailed into weather
the saltiest balked
And bit off big pieces
while walking my talk
I painted with brushes
DaVinci had blessed
And wandered and wondered
much better than best
I took from my heart
and gave to my soul
The circle expanding
— three halves to my whole
(The New Room: April, 2024)
Copyright ©
Kurt Philip Behm
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