My Last Etesian Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

My Last Etesian



Forty years a Poet,
sixty years a man

Calling to me distant,
my last Etesian

Time at best deceptive,
a trinity of masks

Present truth accepted,
the one not first or last

The drums now beating softly,
their rhythm stills my heart

My spirit free to chase the wind,
—this world I now depart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2017)

Monday, March 6, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: spirit
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