The View From My Age

Fugitive Fragments

The view from my age expands with every year
Though the horizon pretends no variation now;
The years disclose paler patchwork fields
Yet prudent stalks wield rich and finer yields;
The slender trees though frangible and spindly
Weigh less fruit but of rare and savored fare;
Rocks once rough eroded now and smoothed
Regale with narrative their storied strata bared;
The undulating contours and aquiline relief
Wear wrinkles sculpting countenance of character.
I’m more drawn to the towering back-lit peaks
Than to the gloomy gorges dipped in shade.

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