Today's poem is by Nance Van Winckel

Passing Through the Shadows Of Great Buildings

The beggar in plaid blankets wanted to kiss my hand
when it lowered the shiny franc. His eyes sleepy, pleading.

How long might I stand there considering . . . the metal
warming, the light waning. That hand of mine dangling . . . .

Copyright © 2002, 2003 Nance Van Winckel All rights reserved
from New Letters
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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