The Road


We walked along the road today

By fields of snowy Queen Anne's lace,

Heard the white-eyed vireo

Calling his "chip-per-roo,"

And breathed sweet-clover's

Perfume in the air,

And felt the summer sun.

But even in delight

There is despair.

We failed to dodge

A shiny poison ivy leaf,

And slapped at horseflies

Lighting on our skin.

We spoke of homeless people

In the street

And far-off wars,

And how the sight

Of golden rod

Marks summer's end.

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