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Thursday, July 8, 2010

The poem is mine but the images are reposts from a website called turn of the century at


The slow high step the cranes

Make seems of little consequence.

This is the beautiful. It lives

In the simplest of things.

We are listening to love songs.

They fill the mouths of birds.

They fit our ears perfectly.

The river gets very wide east of here,

Doesn’t seem like a river at all.

Eventually it isn’t. It becomes the

Great Lake that it is and finds

Its way through a thousand islands,

Rapids and gains intent to find the sea.

Here no one seems to notice. It’s a

Difficult place to live. Things like

Those cranes are a fine dessert that

Is too seldom found. Still we

Wait here watching. We are listening

To love songs. They fit our ears perfectly.

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