Oh This Route―Not 66
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.
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)