Oh This Route–Not 66 Poem by B.E. Kahn
A chauffeured Jaguar, white, awaits. For now I tend my own modest rose. Poems at the door, early, late, gather. A dream ladder climbs. Ten wishes rise. The plain open road of life crosses this country. Green hills shelter song-filled home, walls all red and gold. Sky windows into my prayers. Two soft chairs tea cups, tango moon, garden path.
A Pushcart Prize nominee, recipient of a CBE, Pew funded grant & other prizes; author of three chapbooks, the latest, Nightspark: The Zoe Poems. She has led poetry groups: interfaith, women’s, various others. Her work appears in many fine reviews. (Visit www.bekahn.com)
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