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Please Enjoy another poem for your troubles.
The Way Through
the swamp is not a freeway
nor the pine trees
skyscrapers that spawn
other skyscrapers. The birds
neither rock stars nor country
music idols. The dead leaves
not refuse, the air not AC
nor the sun a searchlight.
The squirrels keep busy but have
no schedules that are not seasons.
And I am as easy as a worm
sliding through damp earth away
from the world of squawk and gobble.
COPYRIGHT ©2019 Otherwise, we are safe, OLIVIA STIFFLER, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED