Poem for the Oldest Daughter
by Vincent Canizaro Jr.


light drifts through the curtain lace;
the piano now is silent,
shadows etching darkness on the floor.

blue unfurls an early morning; marbled,
and mist conceals the knotted oak.
on an autumn hillside
a sun that warms the morning furrows
shades the bottomland,
a pigeon hops
with a twig
in its beak.

my friend
allow yourself the time to see
a quiet day, a pensive day,
there is much to learn of patience.







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