In much the same way as painters create self-portraits or insert small cameos of themselves in group portraits, so too does a poet often pen something of himself, often disguised, in his poems.
RECLUSE
All scattered to the winds and ways,
like blushing cherry blossom blown,
the friends, he knew when not full-grown,
have vanished from his elder days.
The carelessness of childhood meant
that friendships were a thing to find
then let escape.
No contract signed.
No deal.
A currency unspent.
If friendships had been coins or gold,
he might have locked inside a cage
all he had gathered to assuage
the loneliness of growing old.
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