Today's View

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 Today’s View


The tall deciduous, deliciously green, stretch to the sky,

Catch the sunlight in their great crowns.

Spruce trees, blue and white, get right to the point,

Their tips aim straight to the heavens.

A spike buck emerges slowly from the trees,

Tastes the clover, looks at me, then walks across the road, 

Perhaps evicted by the ten-pointer.

Me? I’m happy just to be.

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