a poem in my pocket

small windmill teeters

on edge of tired garden,

steel frame shows rust

thru dull aluminum paint,

concrete pad tips slightly,

buried under snowdrift.

faded red tail fin hangs limp

unresponsive to bitter wind

as head, spun clean away,

lies on frozen ground, useless,

one broken blade

now missing.

Linking to dVerse Poets where Victoria explains “imagist” poetry:  Imagists sought to represent “things” in clear, precise language—in the words of Ezra Pound, “luminous details.”