Sixty-seven is a man
Invested purely in what ought to be,
X-ing out the barriers to will
That make it hard to see what one would see.
Yet years cannot accomplish much, it
So does his passion sing
like dammed-up streams
Enveloping the nobles who agree,
Vast armies of the afternoon, who still
Expend their time to keep their honor free,
Needing to sustain what love redeems.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon