Golden Age

 Avigayil F


"I lived through the golden age,"

I'm afraid I will say one day.

“I saw it split apart at the seams—"

At first, it was beautiful:

sunlight streaming through the perforations.

We thought it gilded plate armor—

Only moth-eaten cloth of gold.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Purim Sestina

Poem 7 - "A Cold Lithuanian Anthem"

Poetry is a Reluctant Dancer