Friday, May 22, 2009

A more recent poem


So what if

We dreamed of high, green hills

With a view

And Tibetan flags

Floating on the sea

Does it matter

If we could not see

The face of the man

At the top of the hill

Who cares if the trails

Were muddy and steep

You said it was the greenest grass

You ever saw

Don’t you wonder

How we managed to climb

So high when we were so broken

Like children

Struck by cars

While at play

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