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An Old Man

Rating: 3.1

Looking upon this tree with its quaint pretension
Of holding the earth, a leveret, in its claws,
Or marking the texture of its living bark,
A grey sea wrinkled by the winds of years,
I understand whence this man's body comes,
In veins and fibres, the bare boughs of bone,
The trellised thicket, where the heart, that robin,
Greets with a song the seasons of the blood.

But where in meadow or mountain shall I match

The individual accent of the speech
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kumarmani Mahakul 04 March 2019

The honeyed warmness of his smile we understand with breeze of life. An old man's accent of speech we still remember. This is a brilliant poem very well penned.

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