ramblings and things

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I am an old man from a far land
of open skies and standing trees
by the great lakes whose waters
would fill with honking geese,
their calls drifting on the breeze
at the start of every day
to seep into my sleep
in the bed where I lay

bringing me so gently awake.
And in my youth I would rise,
brushing the night
from my lazy eyes,
take a cold shower
to bring me fully awake
then every morning walk
along the shores of the grey lake

best just after dawn
to breathe in the fresh air
taking such a pleasure
from just being there.
Now an old man in a distant land
I get so much satisfaction I find
from taking those same walks
from the depths of my mind.

Maybe shores are built on now,
maybe not so many trees
or not so many birds
to honk in the breeze,
but with the gift of memory
those miles that I ranged
are preserved in their beauty
pristine still and so unchanged.

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