The Gargoyle

The Gargoyle
sees it all
Snows,
hard driven down
long avenues
curving
into a gray forever
whistling
Crocus, white
in sparkling springs
uncurling
to kiss the sun
unseen
by strolling lovers
whispering
Long shadowed
summer evenings
where
time
and tide
and conversation
away
softly
slipping
Turbulent
autumn
winds
swirl leaves
of elm
dancing
branches
rattling
And the old man
sips his coffee
slowly
watching
the gargoyle
watching

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