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There is poetry in seeing a painted lady butterfly in the cosmos growing in our backyard, so much so, I wrote this poem.

First Day of Retirement

The panicked whine of

A chain saw

Rips through

My morning coffee

At 8:07.

I turn on the radio

For the latest traffic jams.

Bay Bridge backup to the Maze,

Looks good

From an oversized chair.

At 8:15 I go outside with my camera

To wait in the garden

For a painted lady

To land on a cosmos.

Tomorrow I will put away the clock.

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