The New on my Sleeve

 

In spite of my jaded self,
wearing Ecclesiastes as a badge
sewn onto velvet sleeves,
I laugh.

The sky knows no
calendar.  It doesn’t give
a whiff for New Years.
But damn, those clouds,

puffed sweetly across the sky
seem new.  They’re tipped
in mauve on a sky cleansed and blue.
The horizon of our gentle city
is pressed with elemental
shining cubes.

Nothing new under the sun?
Of course.  The old cranky sage,
if scratched, would admit this:
Goodness is recycled.

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2 Responses to The New on my Sleeve

  1. louis gitlin says:

    beautiful poem

    if the pictures are from Truro, i am going to break down.

    • jillbpearlman says:

      Next year in Jerusalem, Louis! The pictures are from Jerusalem, RI. Thanks for being a faithful reader xo

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