not a sestina

I used to care about sestinas
And other clever things;

But now a fallen castle,
A lying tree among the bluebells,

Is all the form I want.
I see the sharpness of it,

The not blueness.
Time past, time future

And most of all
Time present.

My poem has seven
Two line stanzas,

A fallen castle
And an infinite number of bluebells.

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