Thursday, November 10, 2011

On the Road

On top of blighted cypress, old crow appears 
To grow larger over centuries; 

Small figures walking by disappear 
In a minute, year after year. 


  1. Know what you mean about that gargantuan crow... no wonder the cypress is blighted.

    Reflects a beautifully graceful acceptance of inevitable diminution, without bitterness.

  2. We walked past that blighted cypress again this morning, no ancient crow on it and that peaceful country road had been “improved” in less than a day, making us feel even smaller. Contrary to their name, bulldozers never seem to sleep, “progress” never goes away.

    Thanks to you both.

  3. Well, let's amend that to a variably graceful acceptance of inevitable defeat and loss, with the cup of bitterness necessarily at least half-full...?

  4. I have no choice but to drink to that--here's mud in our eyes.


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