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Friday, April 04, 2008

Sonnet XCV

There was a path upon a grassy hill.
Behind the hill the sunset lay, beyond.
While climbing up the path, kind crickets trilled,
but of the prickly plants I wasn’t fond.

The top was lovely, what a sight to see!
A sultry sun, completing daily rounds,
the trucks and lights of nearby factories,
and cigarette packs scattered on the ground.

The urban sprawl spreads far as one can think.
Construction rested for the night but still
the mounds of dirt lay all about in rings…
and water bottles litter all the hill.

I thought about the lists and plans I made…
then in the human starkness, nature fades.

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A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!