Poems by Roger Fogelman

Friday, February 20, 2009; 7:38 PM

Deborah

When time and thought conjoin

In the reflecting pool of memory

Quite often there sign to me

The shapes of butterflies I've known,

Stamping their abstract signatures

Upon the medallion of the moment,

Piercing the inner eye like a wildflower

And, like it, filling the heart

With an incomprehensible sense

Of perfection

Too all-comprehensive to be borne

Except in silence,


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