On Looking

                   - for G.O.

Pouring a mug
of black coffee
and looking through
steam and window glass
at the pink buds
of the Juneberry tree
buffeted by gusts
the lake beyond,
the dim clouds,
I am reminded of
Maude Blessingbourne,
the added e "By George!";
all that time
welling up in heaps
like stones down by
the shore.

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