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Lawrence Hall Oct 2017
Vaches Sans Frontières

An American
Cow goes “Moo.” A Canadian
Cow goes “Eh.”   Merci.
james nordlund Nov 2019
San frontieres, a twig of poetree,

topological, roots and wings,

once more to the breach,

dancing betwixt ears, ungestured, bays,



I'd be as a mayfly, only alive a day,

rather than as long as an eagle flies, not whying.

Fathoming delves ley lines realizing increasing

wingspan, height of flight, intensity of sunlight.
Gotta have hearth.  Standing is my life, and I never died   :)   reality
james nordlund Oct 2020
Within our langue, we find us, aura of place.
This while life's trapped meanings, words,
paroled, evoked thus, gesture one
through one, and no other.

While without, betwixt words, languid lessons,
failing to be learned, detail broad-strokes
of reality's brush painting us, the canvas,
the world, framelessly framed.

Yet, languorless, from a bird's eye,
this insight, inner flight to soul's
fathomless essence, unweaves
self's tapestry, to begin anew,

a word, path of study, walked it's way.
A time redefined by what's sublime, communal
solutioning concentrating, sans frontieres.
Shimmering stream to babbling brook's nook.
Thanx for reading my twig of poetree, commenting and all you All do.  From the French, 'sans frontieres', meaning, without borders; as in Doctors Without Borders = Médecins Sans Frontières.  Have a cool 'noon   :)   reality

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