I
sit atop the only mountain left me, my rocking chair, and survey the imagined
wilderness that I find myself in. Spring
has come and all the views that declare that I am a city dweller are now pushed
deep into the green of new birth and make them faded memories of the flatlands
left in winter. I now sit in the wilds
and the birds that make their home in my wild carol all the joy of peace on
earth to me.
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| Albert Bierstadt's A Rest On The Trail |
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