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Aug 2016
The house, old and gray,
Sits back in a field
As houses did then,
Before cars came to compress the day.

From here I see the woods,
The river’s run, the spiral of the valley
Under clouds of rolling snow
To the road the machines come through.

I think I will stay here tonight
To keep company with the house,
And recreate the goodness of our small love,
To be ready for them when they come.

Yet I fear when they come
I will only say I came to watch
Machines destroy a house
Built with someone else’s small love.


© 2016
"Small love" or the ordinary love of ordinary people; that is, those of us not "important" enough to be noticed beyond the commonplace and who bear the burden of "progress" without protest.
E C Vadnais
Written by
E C Vadnais  Rhode Island, USA
(Rhode Island, USA)   
  751
       unknown, Mirela Totić, ---, ---, MV Blake and 9 others
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