Retired from a World of complicity
after forty five nervous years
of labor, protest and fear
to settle in that arboreal city
under T.J's benevolent credo
I slept near an open window,
breathing the green breath of trees,
cool midnight and morning breeze
flowing soft on my penumbral face,
dreaming where yesterday's symbols entwine,
then awoke to stretch a langorous joy
in such a scene of magical grace
and treasured the slow drift of time
through that aging poetical boy.

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John Talbot Ross