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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