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First of a short series of poems inspired by 1920’s Sunnyside Bathing Pavilion.

A curved path

Its scattered gold

Seems like leaves, old

Dry, and come to ground

Before the stairs

Enticing me.

Between the trees

Tickets to climb

Are a need to buy

But empty is the seller’s chair.

Sublime? Not.

Yet, there is lots of

Scattered gold.


Poem ยฉ Resa McConaghy – 2017

Photo ยฉ Resa – October, 2016