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by David Horowitz

A dewdrop globes in buttercup petal.
A grass blade quivers in the breeze.
Crows clamor from the cottonwood trees
As dandelion seedlets tumble, settle
Down. Meadow simmers sunlit silent brown.
I lose myself on trail to shady stream
But spot a cottonwood, detect crow scream

And rediscover path, then road, to town

Of buildings, bridges, boulevards, and bustle, parks
Amidst our fashions and ambitions
And rush for freeways, late editions,
Sports victories, and dinners out--and hearth sparks
And stories, bed. Alarm clock stuns. I crown
My dawn with dash to work, the urge to scream
Myself silent as I rejoin the stream.


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