Familiar faces in the neighbourhood
Two score years and seven
Always the odd, the slightly eccentric.
As myself.
This year the blue viburnum

Man that is born of woman
For a season you strut your stuff
In the window of the world.
Both large and smaller than appears.
Living in history
With privilege of ancestors and.
The woods and fields are paradise enough

This springtime
All life context
Only as discovery, increase,
This window, poverty of much within.

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