Dilettalia

You dip your toe into poetry’s waters,

but never seem to get wet

 

Pretense showing, your measure unknowing,

the surface as good as it gets

 

Into the depths where fear leaves a shadow,

you stare with eyes conjoined

 

The moment upon you, time has been stopped,

to dive—your soul purloined

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

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