Roses and Salvias and Romola

Reading Romola as an e-book in a supernumerary end of work world

I am reminded of roses and salvias blooming on the hills of Fiesole

And in my garden. Eliot must have roamed the sedged fields of Tuscany

Gazing down on remnants of the past made present, in search of time

Found again in sameness, the way a soft ink traces a flush of pink

From page to screen, embellishing a desk with the loveliness of constancy

Growing from those breathing symbols carefully germinating all our histories.

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

 

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