The poem below was inspired by a poem written by Jane Kenyon, and dedicated to my son Joshua
I hope it shows the respect I feel for all of her works, as well as the love I feel for him.
She was an inspiration, he continues to be much the same.
In the Grove: The poet at Thirty
She saw him stretch;
long and lean -
the timothy bowing to his form.
A plane rattled the window,
sliced the lone cloud -
one shape bending the next.
Silent he shifted visions.
Somehow, before awe
turned intrusive, she left him
to his day.
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